Spinning The Wheel
by Sway1984
Summary: Buffy crashes into a young man in a wheelchair and get some hours of Social Service. But things don't turn out the way they were planned.....
1. Prologue

Spinning the Wheel 00 - Prolog

The bright Californian sun was blazing down on Sunnydale like it wanted to roast the little city, two hours away from any of the big shopping domes that made the life of a twenty year old woman worth living.

Instead Buffy Summers and her best friend Willow Rosenberg had decided to pay the local mall a visit and get some new shoes. Well, as far as shopping went when Buffy was on her ride, the pretty blond girl turned out with two new skirts, three tops and some other accessories. But no shoes.

Now they were sitting in the car Buffy's mom had lent them and they were driving down Sunnydale's main street. The radio was blaring some bubble gum pop and the two young women were singing along. Both horribly off key. But they didn't care, nobody was listening and even if, the music was so loud that anybody who was eavesdropping wouldn't have heard them anyway.

"So. are you coming to that Porter hall thing on Saturday or are you still on the mope-train?" Willow turned down the radio, looking at her friend.

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know yet. Maybe. Ask me again on. say. Friday."

"Buffy, you should really get over that guy. If that was really his point than he wasn't worth it anyway. It's eating you inside out and I don't have enough best-friend-time with you anymore. I'm the one who's suffering here." Willow put on her mocking scowl and Buffy smiled wryly.

She really didn't want to talk about what happened with Riley. She hadn't loved him the way he wanted her to and than he'd left. So be it. Nothing to talk about. But whenever she thought about it, she felt a pang in her heart. No matter how far she tried to push the pain away.

"Ok, than count me in. I'm not getting enough best-friend-time either. I can't stay home all the time. Mom's hyper-concerned and Dawn's a pain in my newly skirt-cladded ass."

Buffy shook in faked disgust and the two women giggled. Yeah, they really needed more time together. She missed the time when she was hanging out with Willow and Xander during High School. But now they were in college and Xander was working in the construction business and didn't have that much time for them either. It was a shame. Plus Willow, who had realised that she was playing for the other team a year ago, had a girlfriend, and they were hanging out a lot more often They were both living on campus while Buffy was still at home with her mom and her little sister. So they only met during classes or when they went shopping like today.

"God, I love that new shirt I bought. It's a blast." Buffy burst out when she thought about her new achievements.

"The pink one?" Willow asked. She was a little startled by the suddenout burst

"Yep."

"It's definitely an eye-catcher, that's for sure. You can wear it at the party."

"Oh yeah." Buffy thought about it for a moment. The idea about the party started to get better and better. She really did need some outdoor fun. "Will. do you think that Ben guy will be there ?"

"The medicine-man who's in your phyc class? I think so. He never misses a party. You like him?" her friend asked and a smile spread over her lips. She loved to hear about everything new on the love-boat and when Buffy was interested in a new guy, that was a bonus. She hated it to see her best friend suffering.

"I don't know. he's cute." Buffy shrugged.

"Just cute or cuuuute?" Willow put a heavy emphasis on the u and made a big gesture with her hands.

A slow smile spread over Buffy's face. Willow had caught her. She really thought that Ben deserved a lot more u's than a lot of other guys at college and after the disaster with Riley he seemed like a nicer guy.

"He's so sweet." Buffy blurted, making the same big gesture with her hand as Willow did before, letting go off the steering wheel for a second. The car leered to the left, almost leaving their side of the road, but Buffy caught it again before she could crash into somebodyor something. "Have you seen him when he chews on his pencils? That's so cute." Yeah, she sounded like the typical high school girl that she has been a couple of years before.

"You're looking for the little details, that's a major crush indicator." Willow exclaimed, nodding.

"I don't have a crush." Buffy tried to defend herself, looking at her friend and leaving the street unattended. "I just think he's a sweety, that's all."

"Buffy! Watch out!" Willow suddenly screamed, pointing out through the windshield, her eyes wide like saucers, her mouth gaping open.

Buffy's head wiped around, her high heel clap foot slammed on the brake. The tires screeched on the pavement and the car's back broke out. She caught again, but it was too late.

CRASH!

Something dark had appeared on the street before the car. Although Buffy had tried to stop in time, it was too late. The crash had been inevitable. Now, the car stood on the street, the tires had left a good portion of rubber on the asphalt.

Buffy stared through the windshield, her hands on the steering wheel. She couldn't move, she couldn't blink, she couldn't breath. Everything had stopped, the car, time. Everything.

Willow was the first who snapped back into reality and left the car. The redhead stumbled around the car, kneeling down in the front, disappearing from Buffy's sight. After a couple of seconds, she reappeared, staggered back to the car, grabbed her purse and roamed through it.

"Aha." She breathed as she found her cell phone and dialled. After a few seconds the connection was made. "Hello? Emergency? My name is Willow Rosenberg, we had an accident on. Resident Drive. Can you send an ambulance please? Thank you." She hung up. "Buffy?"

The blond didn't move. She was still staring ahead, immobile.

"Buffy!" Willow shook her shoulder and Buffy blinked.

"What?" she croaked, her voice dry and hoarse. "What happened?"

"You had an accident. Are you ok?"

Buffy shook her head to get a clear site. Then she looked down at her body. "Yeah. yeah. I think so. What's." She couldn't say it. She knew that she had crashed into something but she couldn't say it.

"Good. Get out of the car." Willow disappeared again, shrugging out of her cardigan and kneeling down in front of the car again.

Finally Buffy collected all her shock-crushed-strength and opened her door. Her knees felt like they were filled with jell-o and she grabbed the door for balance, her whole body was shaking.

No, that couldn't have happened. She couldn't have had an accident right now. What if she had hurt somebody, what if.

"God, damn it, woman. I'm bloody alright. Leave me alone." A male voice came from the front the car and than Buffy saw it.

A wheelchair lay toppled on the street, one of the wheels still spinning slowly. Willow was crouched beneath a young man who lay a few feet from her car. His legs were twisted in an odd angle that just hurt from looking at it. And he was struggling against the red head's help. She had folded up her thin jacket and tried to put it under his head. He had a nasty cut on his forehead which was bleeding. His hands were bloodied, too, were they must've scraped over the pavement.

Now he was sitting up, his weight propped up on one muscled arm. With the other hand he tried to adjust his legs in a more comfortable position - mostly to the eye of any other person.

"You." He glared up at Buffy and now she could see his face and she just gasped. His blue eyes were sparkling furious with anger, his jaw clenched and his lips tightened over a stifled curse. "Can't you keep you bloody eyes on the street, damn it?" he growled, leaning over on the other arm, trying to come near the toppled wheelchair.

Oh please no. This couldn't be true. It wasn't true. She must be dreaming. She had crashed into a guy in a wheelchair of all things. Of course any crash that involved crashing into people was bad but this guy was sitting in a wheelchair. He couldn't walk. 'Great Buff. Big hit, really.' Buffy scold herself.

"Oh god, I'm so." she covered her mouth with her hand, unable to come with something reasonable.

"What? Sorry? Well, don't be. I don't need pity from people like you." He snorted, inching closer to his wheelchair but still not close enough.

"Ehm. Sir. I think we should wait for the ambulance. That wound looks really bad. Somebody should have a look." Willow tried to stop the young man, grabbing his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

"I said leave me alone. I don't need your help." He spat at Willow and the red head retreated.

The second he grabbed for the wheelchair, sirens blared through the street and the ambulance came around the corner, it's brakes screeching to a halt a couple of feet from Buffy's car.

Two guys in dark blue uniform jumped out of the back , one with a huge emergency suitcase in his hand.

"What happened? Who called us " He looked between the young man with the aggressive platinum blond hair, the red head and the still pretty shocked Buffy who could just stare at the scene.

"That was me." Willow answered as the other man knelt down beside them. "We crashed into his wheelchair. He has a wound on his forehead." She informed and the bleached blond guy shot her an annoyed look.

"Sir, let me have a look at that, please." Before the young man could answer the medical orderly grabbed him by the chin and turned his face toward him. "It's just a cut, no stitches will be needed. But we will take you to the hospital for a round about check."

As if ordered the other man stood and returned to the ambulance to get the stretcher.

"I don't need no check. I'm fine. Just tape me up." The blond guy said.

"Sorry, sir. I can't leave you like that. A doctor should have a look at you." With that he stood, too, and turned to Buffy.

"Miss, are you alright? You were the driver?"

"Yeah. I'm. I'm fine. Maybe a bruise or two but." She tried to focus on the man before her instead of the quietly cursing young man she'd hurt.

"Do you want us to take you to the hospital, too?"

"What? No. I'm alright, really. We'll just wait for the police, I guess." Buffy shook her head, she didn't really know what to think or say.

"As you wish."

Buffy stared as the two medical orderlies helped the young man up onto the stretcher. Now, he was swearing loudly, his British accent making it impossible to understand every single word. They put him into the ambulance, storing the wheelchair in the back, too.

"Miss, the police are on their way."

Buffy nodded.

"Buff? You alright?" Now, finally, Willow was at her side and pulled her into a tight comforting hug.

For a few seconds they just stood there. It felt good just to be hugged. This was all too much. The accident wasn't as bad as Buffy had thought before, but she still was the black figure - that turned out to be that a bleach wonder with a black leather jacket - disappearing under her car.

Willow released her slowly and stroked a strand of hair out of the friend's face. Tears were streaming down the blonde's cheeks.

"God, what did I do?" she breathed, her shoulder twitching with a sudden sob.

It felt like the reality was crashing into her just now. For the first time since she'd felt the car bump into something, the world felt real again. The colors had their normal intensity and the sound was in the right volume.

"It's ok, Buffy. Everything is going to be alright. The police will be here any second. It isn't that bad." Willow tried to smile comfortingly but failed miserably.

"I. I hurt a guy. god. I almost killed him." Buffy's hand went over her mouth again as she tried to stifle another sob.

"No, you didn't. He's going to be alright." The red head hugged her friend again.

The police finally arrived a few minutes later. One of the officers talked to the medical orderlies, the other one came up to the two young women. He took their addresses and the details about the accident. The officer was in his mid fifties and was eyeing Buffy suspiciously like she was accused of murder. Willow came to her help on one or another occasion and he shot her the same disgusted look.

He said that Buffy should stay in town in case anything came up after the accident. Yeah, she really felt like she'd killed somebody. But than, maybe out of a flash of fatherly sympathy, the officer smiled.

"I don't think that anything will happen. The young man doesn't seem to be hurt too bad, well. except for the wheelchair thing but that wasn't your fault, so."

Two weeks later Buffy was called into court.


	2. Judging Buffy

Spinning the Wheel 01 - Judging Buffy

Buffy had barely attended college the last two weeks. She just couldn't motivate herself to go and study. The shock from the accident sat to deep, the pictures were burned into her skull. Although nothing severe had happened and nobody was seriously hurt she felt guilty as if she'd killed somebody.

And her mother? Well her mother had yanked the car keys out of her hand and Buffy knew that she would never drive again, at least not her mother's car. She had always been concerned when Buffy had asked for it, her daughter just had no talent for driving and now this. No, her mother hadn't been angry, she was glad that Buffy was well and alive, but she was disappointed and now the trial. Luck wasn't really on their side.

Now, Buffy sat on her chair, shifting from one site to the other. Her black skirt with the crisp white blouse felt uncomfortable like this whole situation.

This wasn't a real court trial cause she wasn't twenty-one yet but it was equally horrifying. The judge, an african-american woman in her forties was reading in folder and nodded once in a while.

The young man she'd crashed into, sat in his wheelchair behind the other table, a small young man beside him who was talking to him the whole time. His layer, presumably. He looked like business wasn't running that good and he was hungry for everything you threw into his way. His suit was cheap and didn't fit the way it should, his hair was combed back with too much hair gel. "Ladies and Gentlemen." The judge announced, taking of her glasses. "We are today to come to terms about the accident, is that right?" She addressed to the opposite party and the young man in the ill fitting suit stood.

"That's right, your honour. This woman has crashed ruthlessly into my client and."

"I know, Mr. Skinner." The judge interrupted. "I've read the file. And I still don't understand why you brought this to me."

"But, your honour." Skinner started again but she interrupted a second time.

"I know, now will you please sit down?" And so he did. "Miss Summers, are you aware of your situation?" She addressed to Buffy.

Buffy rose to her feet. "Yes, Ma'am, I know. And I. I can just say that I'm terrible sorry." She blushed.

"I know, Miss Summers. So here is my decision. Since Miss Summers isn't of age yet we can't put up with indemnification here. But since it hasn't been you're only incident I can't let you go, either. So I will put you on probation."

Buffy gasped and stared at the judge.

"Don't be afraid, Miss Summers. Your probation will be 20 hours in community services."

"What? You let that chit go like that? She's a danger for the public. She nearly killed me." Now it was the young man who exclaimed furiously.

"Mr Rayne, would you please watch your tongue? I don't appreciate that in my court room."

He raised his hands in defence and sunk back into his wheelchair.

The judge thought for moment, than a slow and thin smile spread over her lips. "And I just know how Miss Summers could spend her probation best." The judge's gaze drifted between the two parties.

"What?" Buffy blurted.

"Oh you've got to be joking." Rayne burst out.

"No, I am seriously not. It seems like a nice right idea to me and since you have that handicap, Miss Summers could lend you hand."

"Oh I don't need lended hands, thank you. I'm just fine on my own."

"Mr Rayne, this is my court room and what I say will be done, do you understand me ? Miss Summers will spend her 20 hours helping you out, no contradiction."

With that the judge rose and left the room through a small door in the back of the room.

Buffy stared at the door. She couldn't believe it, it just couldn't be true. She has to spend twenty hours in community service, that was just great. She could've dealt with working at a kindergarten or something like that but not that guy of all things. She felt guilty as hell as if she'd put him in that wheelchair herself and he hated her guts. That would end just fine. He would probably put her in a maid's dress and let her do the really ugly housework, he would treat her like a slave.

Her mom gave her a tight hug as Buffy went up to them. Joyce and Dawn Summers had been sitting in the back of the courtroom.

"Oh baby, I'm so glad that everything had turned out that way. It could have definitely be worse."

"Mom?" Buffy stared at her mother. "How could it possibly be worse?"

"Preaching to the choir, luv."

Buffy's head wiped around and she stared at the young man who was just passing by when she'd talked to her mother. He shot a very, very pissed off look and Buffy froze. She could just look at him as he continued his way, the lawyer at his side seemed pretty disappointed.

"And now you have to go up to his apartment or what?" Willow asked on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, so I was told. Everything else is up to him, whatever he wants me to do, I have to do."

"Oh. poor Buffy."

"Yeah, poor me." Buffy slumped down on her bed. "it It just isn't fair. Why him? Why can't I go and watch little kids or play Parcheesi with the old folks. No, it has to be him. I guess he'll come up with a whip or something. He hates me."

"Well." There was a pause on the other end. "I mean, you nearly killed him. Is he supposed to love you for that?"

"I didn't kill him. He just had a cut and a few bruises, nothing more. Not enough to hate my guts for that matter." The blond twirled a strand of her hair around her finger.

"He doesn't hate your guts." Willow assured. "You have pretty lovely guts. you know what I mean. I bet he doesn't hate you, he's just. angry. That's all. I guess when you go up to him everything will work out."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. We'll see. Oh. ehm. I have bad news, Will." Buffy slapped her forehead that she almost forgot to tell her friend.

"What?"

"I can't go to the party. Mom grounded me." She said pouting.

"She did what?" She could hear Willow gawking on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah, she grounded me for as long as my probation runs. Just that hour of community service fun and college for the next twenty days including the week-ends."

"Oh really poor Buffy. But don't worry, there'll be another party and there will be other chances to address you to the market."

"Oh you're so generous, Will."

"Hey, best friend here. I'm always here to your service."

"Talking about services, I need to get that paper done. Tomorrow I don't have time due to that service-thing I'm damned to do. Do we met before class?"

"Sure thing. Bye then."

"Bye."

The two women hung up and Buffy flopped down on her back. She sighed heavily. She didn't know what was worse. The thought of the paper she had to write or the hour she had to spend with that Rayne guy.

Well. definitely the latter. She knew even now that it was going to be horrible. She didn't know how to talk to him. Not only had she involved him in an accident but he was also sitting in a wheelchair and she always had problem with handicapped people. She just didn't know how to treat them. On the one hand they were normal people but on the other hand they had something that you stare at when you first see them.

Oh boy. this was going to be hell on earth.


	3. Doomsday

Spinning the Wheel 02 - Doomsday

Buffy looked at the address on the slip of paper in her hand than glanced up at the façade of the house. Yep, she was right.

The house was built in a very pretty Mediterranean style, the yellow and orange tones created a warm and comfortable aura, totally opposite to the things Buffy imagined would come up at her in the next hour and in the next 20 days.

Slowly she approached the entrance. If felt like she was going to her own execution, she really didn't want to do this. She could spend her afternoon with load of more thrilling things, like meeting up with Willow and Tara at the Espresso Pump or something like that. But no, she was damned.

There were four names at the door. Rayne was the last.

She pushed the button, waiting for the communication to spring to live. There was a static crackle in the line as a rough voice answered.

"Who's this?"

"Ehm." Buffy muttered. "This is Buffy Summers."

"Bloody hell." came the muffled answer. Like hell, she wasn't supposed to hear that. But she hadn't enough time when the door opener beeped with an ill sound and she pushed the door open.

A staircase was leading up and around an ancient looking elevator. Buffy picked the stair. Since there were just two floors it wasn't that bad.

As she reached the second landing she saw the door on the other site open ajar. Carefully she knocked and stepped in.

The place was dark. No, not the carpet, that was in a pretty apricot tone as far as Buffy could make out, there wasn't just enough light. Although the sun was shining outside, the apartment was barely lit. The curtains were all drawn and just through some slits, subtle light peeked into the room.

The hall lead right into a huge living room. It was more than a combined living-kitchen area with the kitchen placed in the far end and separated with half a wall and counter. The living-room looked as if someone had camped there, with a blanket and a pillow lying on the couch. Food cartons were piled around it and on the coffee table and there was the faint smell of old pizza and cigarettes in the room.

"So you jump right to the lurking then?"

Buffy jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around.

There he was, staring up at her. The front of his grey t-shirt was soaked with sweat and a few beads were glistening on his forehead.

"Ehm. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just. I didn't know where you were and."

"I was working out. I usually do that around this time, so get used to it." he snapped, rolling past her into the kitchen. He moved in precise motions like he'd a lot of time to practise

. 

"You were working out?" Buffy asked and she could've slapped herself for that stupid question right after the words left her lips.

"Gosh, the cripple is working out. Can you believe it." he said in a mocking tone, moving into the kitchen. He came back with a sports bottle of water in his lap.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be." She started. Yep, this was going to be hell. She didn't know how to cope with him and his. handicap. He wasn't an alien or something but she just couldn't deal. Every word could offend him.

"You didn't mean what? Look, I don't need pity from you or anything, understand?" he said angrily, totally ignoring that she was standing in the way so she had to step aside. She was following him into the hallway and entered another room behind him.

This room was lighter than the rest of the apartment. And it looked like a gym.

"Would you please stop following me around?" he whirled around, staring at Buffy.

She sighed. "Look, I just wanted to ask if. if there is anything I can do for you. I mean if you want me to do anything." God, that sounded like she was handing herself over to him freely, following the slave-theme her mind had painted out already.

"No, I don't want you to do anything for me. I'm fine on my own, I'm not a baby." he pronounced every word precisely.

Buffy threw her hands up. She didn't know what to do anymore. She'd tried. She really did, being polite and all but he was just as stubborn as a. yeah, as a baby.

"God, I don't deserve this." she muttered under her breath. "I'll just wait in the living-room, so you can sign my hours when you're done with your exercising." She waved her hand around the room pointing at some of the weights lying scattered on the floor.

He was staring at her, his mouth slightly open. "What was that?"

"I said, I'll go wait in the living."

"You think you don't deserve this?" he spat at her, his hands clenching about the armrests of the wheelchair. His whole face grew tense, his eyes were sparkling furiously. "You think you don't deserve being here? Well, listen up, missy. Do you think that I deserve this? That I deserve sitting in a soddin' wheelchair for the rest of my damn life? You think I like depending on other people to open the door for me or taking stuff down from shelves at the supermarket? I don't. I hate to get up everyday, knowing that I will never walk again. That I will be trapped in this thing till the day I die. So come on then, tell me who's the one with the big luck in this scene."

Buffy could see him quivering like he was going to explode any second. She stepped back a little and swallowed. She didn't know what to say. Usually she could come up with a witty answer to everything but this time she stayed silent. There wasn't anything to say to that, because he was right. And she hadn't thought about it.

"You better go wait in the living-room then." he nodded and turned around, leaving her standing in the doorway.

The minutes passed by slowly. Menacingly slowly.

Buffy sat on the couch. She had folded up the blanket so there was space to sit. Usually she wasn't too much for the housework, at all, but this was different. What he'd said had hit her, more than she'd expected, more then she would ever confess. She had been stupid, horribly stupid. She had stumbled into this situation just thinking about how much she would suffer in this. That she was the one with the bad luck.

But now she knew the other side of the medal, the one she hadn't giving a thought, not even when she'd entered this apartment. This young man, she didn't know his first name, wasn't that much older than she was, 26 at the most. He had his whole life stretched out before him but he was going to make his path in a wheelchair. Like he'd said, he was trapped.

Buffy was young, too, but she could still decide which way to take, which turn to follow. But he was forced to go where the wheels were leading him. He couldn't do whatever he wanted like she could. She was in college and after that. who knew what she was going to do. But he had his life already set in stone. He wouldn't become a famous football player or an actor or something like that. He had to sit there and watch all the other people around him becoming what they wanted.

Her eyes drifted, those depressing thoughts in mind, over the rest of the living-room. Before, she hadn't the time to take everything in. And in the far corner, behind the dinning table in front of the counter, she saw what made her swallow. The thoughts came back popping into her mind.

She stood, walked over to it and knelt down beside a glistening, blue electric guitar. It stood in it's holder, waiting to be picked up and played on. On the guitar's body was a silver engraving reading 'Spike'. Buffy's fingers slid over the polished wood and over the strings, making them hum quietly.

"Would you not touch that, please."

His voice startled her again. She didn't even expect him to move the quietly.

"And if you say you're sorry now I'll throw you down the stairs. Can't hear that phrase anymore." he interrupted as Buffy opened her mouth. She shut it and just nodded instead. "So, I have to sign that you've been here, right?"

"Yeah, ehm. " She walked over to the couch were she'd left her purse. "You need to sign this." She pulled out a folded piece of paper.

He'd moved over to the table and she placed it before him, along with a trashy pink pen, she immediately felt ashamed for. His eyes roamed over the paper, taking in it's content. Then, he looked at the watch on his wrist, wrote down the time and his name.

"Sir, can I ask you something?" Buffy started, fumbling the hem of her shirt. She still felt pretty uncomfortable around him, not only because of the incident earlier.

"Car accident three years ago, been in a coma for a couple of days but they patched me up again. Said I could never walk again, so here I am. Does that cover your question, Miss Summers?" he said frankly while writing.

"Ehm, that wasn't exactly was I was going to ask." she said, but she was glad that she finally knew. The question had been burning in her mind since she'd seen him in court.

"What then?" he asked. He seemed inpatient, like he couldn't wait for her to get out of his apartment.

"I was... who's Spike ?" Buffy asked, blushing. Yeah, it wasn't the best question to ask but it was a start.

"That's me." he shrugged, turning away from her to roll over into the kitchen. There, he threw the empty sports bottle that had been resting in his lap into the trash can. "It's a nickname. You can call me that, for all I care."

"Oh, ok." Great Buffy. Usually your such a smart ass when it comes to witty replies and now you behave like an idiot.

"Look, Miss. I really need to get a shower right now and your time is up anyway. You can go."

"Oh please, call me Buffy."

He nodded and there was a moment of awkward silence between them until Buffy snapped out of her trance, grabbed the sheet of paper and the pen and stuffed it back into her purse.

"Well then." She turned towards the hallway and started for the door.

"Buffy?" Spike called after her. The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. Since they'd met for the first time two weeks ago, he almost sounded friendly.

"Yeah?" She turned around again, facing him. Yeah, there was a kind glitter around his eyes this time.

Spike hesitated. He had other words in mind but he couldn't say them. "You'll be back tomorrow then?" he said instead.

"Sure." Buffy nodded. She knew he was hiding something, she could sense it behind his façade. She didn't know him long enough but he was a horrible liar. "Same time's ok with you?" she added.

"Not that I could go anywhere. See you tomorrow then." With that, he turned around, heading back into the kitchen and out of sight.

Buffy sighed quietly, then headed for the door and left the apartment.

Spike just sat there for a couple of minutes before he turned around again, rolling into the living-room and towards the corner where his guitar was standing. He looked at it for a moment, then lowered his hand towards it's neck, lifting it into his lap. His finger slid over the strings, playing a few notes without a specific melody.

His gaze dropped to the floor and he closed his eyes. His hands were shaking, unable to play any more.

How long has it been since he'd played the last time? Three years? Something like that. Not since the accident, that was for sure. He couldn't bring himself to play, just like now. A few notes, nothing more. It was too hard, too painful to remember.

Within fragments of seconds everything had been lost. When he remembered it it seemed like hours passing by in slow-motion, although it had just been a few heartbeats. The two cars on the rainy street, the argument, the screeching of breaks, the crunching of distorted metal, the splash of blood on the wind shield and the blinding pain in his legs.

Spike shook his head, forcing the pictures out of his mind. But it was impossible. He could ignore them for some time but they were burned into the back of his eyes, like the negative of an old photo. His hand clenched around the guitar. If he had enough strength he could snap it in two. With a deep sigh he put the instrument back in its place.

Then he turned around, facing the mess that was his apartment. That was his life.

That Buffy-girl was a menace. Not only was he was sure that she wasn't even allowed to drive a car without the presence of an adult, she was an arrogant little bitch who never gave a thought about other people. She stumbled into a situation without a second thought, her tongue was faster than her brain. Great. And he had to spend 19 hours with her. He just had to keep her busy so that she wasn't a thread for him with her questions and apologies. When there was one thing in the world he hated more than being trapped in that wheelchair, it was the patronising look of all the people around him, If there was a smell for pity, they would reek of it, a nasty, penetrating stench soaking them through and through.

Reluctantly he rolled over to the couch, picking up the pizza and Chinese food carton that had piled up there for a couple of days. If he did that bit of housework himself, he could keep her from poking her arrogant teenage nose into his business.


	4. Thin Ice

Spinning the Wheel 03 - Thin Ice

"So.. how was your hour in the proverbial lion's den?" Willow asked, her arm linked with Tara's as they walked down the corridor at the UC Sunnydale campus.

Buffy was walking beside them, the bag with her books dangling from her shoulder and a sad expression clouded her face.

"I don't know. It was. weird." she shrugged. She couldn't tell Willow and Tara how insensitive she'd been.

"You mean like David Lynch-weird or just the usual kind of weird?"

"Nope, just the usual. That guy is just. I don't know. He's all bad-moody and so into non-conversation that it almost hurts. And you should see his apartment. Well.. actually, you couldn't see it cause he keeps it dark. As if he's a vampire or something. He's got issues. Big time."

A smile crept on the two girl's faces as they watched Buffy rambling on and on. The blonde didn't even realise it, she was so caught up in her rant.

"Buff. Hold on for a sec, ok?" Willow cut her off as she wanted to continue.

Buffy smiles wryly. "Sorry. It just creeps me out."

"Yeah, I realised it that. But I think you should take it easy. I mean, you involved him in an accident, you can't expect him to love you for that. And.. he's sitting in a wheelchair, right? I suppose that is not the happy-land that he wants to be in." she explained, her hand on Buffy's shoulder. Tara nodded, too.

"I know. And I really try. It's just." She threw her hands up in frustration. Since she came home yesterday all she could think of was Spike's totally pissed off expression. Yeah, she felt sorry for what she'd said, but she couldn't go back in time to never make it happen.  
And there was this kind of friendly light in his eyes before she'd left. What was that supposed to be. She couldn't read this guy, he was a mystery, keeping secrets locked away.  
She didn't know if she wanted to open that door.

Buffy rang the doorbell and the door to the apartment building buzzed open without an answer on the intercom.  
The door to the apartment stoop open ajar and Buffy stepped in after she knocked briefly. It hadn't changed much since she'd left yesterday but it had more of a friendly aura to it today. The curtains in the living-room were drawn a little bit more open and the place looked cleaner. The food cartons were gone and the blacket on the couch was neatly folded under the pillow.

Had he cleaned up? Why? Because she was there? He didn't seem to care yesterday.

Suddenly a clatter of glass startled her. She spun around to face the kitchen.

"Oh bugger it." came a muttered curse.

"Hello?" Buffy asked, entering the kitchen cautiously, just to find Spike in front of one of the cabinets, a shattered glass at his feet.

"Yeah." he grunted, picking up the shards. There was blood on his fingers.

"What happened?" Buffy asked. She knelt down beside him, taking the broken glass out of his hand. 

"Was my last real glass. Tried to reach it and obviously failed." he shrugged.

"What do you mean,' real glass'?"

"Rest's all plastic. Due to that out-of-reach-issue that I have. I smashed the other glasses over the years and got them replaced by plastic."

Buffy stood and put the shards into the trash can. "You're bleeding."

"Yeah." Spike was about to stick his cut fingers into his mouth to suck on the blood as Buffy caught his wrist. And for the first time, their eyes met. The anger she'd seen yesterday was almost gone. Although there was still that sad shadow around his eyes, he didn't look that aggressive anymore.

"Stop that. It'll get infected. You got a first-aid-kit? Then I'll see to that." She let go off his hand and he lowered it into his lap.

Although he hated being treated like a child more than anything, he nodded and a thin smile spread on his lips. "It's under the sink in the bathroom. Second door on the right."

"Ok." Buffy whirled around, disappearing into the hall.

The bathroom was actually bigger than Buffy had expected.  
Well, he had more around here, she guessed, slapping herself for being so horribly stupid. There was a huge tub in the corner to her right, the sink was on the opposite wall to her left. She roamed though the cabinet. There were plenty of tablet-tubes, all labeled with his name and stuff Buffy didn't understand. But one thing she did understand. These were all painkillers. The heavy stuff. Not something you dull a headache will, this would leave you basically numb all over.

Finally Buffy came up with the first-aid-kit, she had kind of a bad taste in her mouth. Seeing the collection of drugs in the bathroom made her feel sorry again and she'd really tried to stop that feeling. But what if he was still in real pain, physical pain.  
God, she really wished she wasn't in this situation.

When she came back into the living-room Spike had moved into the main room, out of the small confines of the kitchen.

Buffy knelt down in front of him, the first-aide kit at her feet. "It's not that bad, it's not bleeding anymore."

She carefully disinfected the thin cuts on his fingertips, wrapping small bandages around them.

"You can be glad, that glass didn't hit you on the head." she said, her eyes fixed on his hands. His soft, smooth but still pretty strong hands.

"Wouldn't have cause much damage." Spike said casually. He really didn't know why she cared all of a sudden. Was the first impression she'd giving him before actually wrong? No way in hell.

"Is.. there something I can do for you?" Buffy asked as she sat back on her heels, stuffing the rest of the bandages back into the kit. She felt uncomfortable, being so close to him and asking that.

Spike bit back a snappy comeback. It was pretty worthless to shout at her again. Actually, he was glad when she was out of the apartment again.

"Actually, yeah." he swallowed his pride and continued. "There's a grocery list in the kitchen with some money. Would you do that for me?"

"Sure." Buffy jumped to her feet, glad to be busy again. She couldn't stand awkward silences, she never had.

"Leave the kit. I'll put it back myself." He picked up the kit and placed it in his lap. "The keys are in the hall, you don't need to ring to get back in."

"Alright. I'll be right back."

Buffy took the list and the money from the kitchen counter and left the apartment again.

Spike sat there for a moment, waiting for the front door to click shut. Immediately he sunk back in his chair, his face distorted with pain and his hands clenched around the armrests.  
He bit back a scream, but a muffled moan escapes his lips. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples and his head rolled back.

"God." he moaned.

The pain was almost unbearable. As he'd stretched to reach for the glass, a sharp pang of pain had ripped through his back. It felt like an electrical shock. As if the torn nerv endings were mis-firing, trying to connect to his legs but the energy, the electrical current that flowed in the nerves, broke loose throughout his system.  
That was why he'd dropped the glass. For several seconds he couldn't move his arm or his fingers. The glass had just slipped through his grasp.

He'd tried to cover the pain as best as he could when Buffy had been there and she didn't seem to notice. Good, she didn't need to know that, too.

Slowly he rolled into the bathroom, put the kit back into it's place under the sink and took out three of the tubes. He popped the caps and shook half a dozen colorful tablets into his hand. He threw them into his mouth, downing them with a handful of cold water.

Bit by bit that pain released it's iron grip. But he didn't understand it. That wasn't supposed to happen. He took the same amount of painkillers every morning. He shouldn't feel that mis-firing.

Buffy's gaze dropped at the grocery list in her hand. She stood in front of the rows at the supermarket a couple of blocks away from Spike's place. Although she hated doing the groceries she was happy to be out of there. Maybe she could get rid of the pictures of that drug collection. It had disturbed her pretty bad. Not that she cared too much, she justed didn't know how to deal with it. What if he was some wicked junkie? One never knew.

Buffy shook that thought away. No, it wasn't like that. He wasn't like. He might be a depressed, grumpy asshole of some kind or another but he wasn't a junkie. And today, he'd been even friendly, almost smiling at her. Maybe they could get along, not making there social hours hell on earth.

The blonde collected the neatly written down things, milk, cereals, peanut-butter with pieces, Oreos. If he'd written that list himself, Buffy was surprised by the very smooth, fine lines and curves he made. God, this man was a mystery. Not that she cared too much, but.

The keys rattled in the lock and Buffy pushed the door open with her butt, the grocery bag pressed to her chest to keep the stuff from falling out.

"I'm back." she called into the apartment, kicking the door shut again. For a split second she felt like a woman coming back to her husband, called 'honey, I'm home' while he was sitting in front of the TV watching football.

That images exploded into tiny pieces when she saw Spike coming from a room down the hall, she hadn't noticed before. Buffy, you should keep your eyes open a little bit, she told herself.

"Can you put that stuff in the kitchen?" he asked, stopping halfway in the hall.

"Sure." she replied, walked through the living-room into the kitchen.

"Ehm, you can leave in on the counter? I'll put it back. I have that system cause I need everything within my reach." he felt a little embarrassed to say that, but he didn't want her to stick her nose into everything. She'd probably mess up everything.

"Oh, okay." Buffy shrugged, placing the bag on the counter. She reached in her pant pocket, pulling out the change and the bill.

"Thanks." Spike smiled wryly. As Buffy came out of the kitchen, he moved in, took the bag into his lap and started putting the stuff away. Mostly in the bottom drawers and cabinet of the kitchen.

"Ehm, can I ask you something?" Buffy asked carefully. She didn't want to inflict an outburst like yesterday.

Spike didn't answer immediately. What was coming now? Was she going to ask about his accident and why there was nobody else around to help him? He really didn't want to get into that now and especially not with her.  
He knew why he didn't keep many people around him, no close friends or maybe even a social worker for that matter. They were all poking their noses into his business, they asked question he couldn't and wouldn't answer and this girl wasn't any different.

"What?" he asked then. Not that he really wanted to hear what she was up to, it was just impolite not to answer. Damn concience.

"Ehm, what do you do? I mean... for a living." she was wondering about that on her whole way back from the store.

Seconds ticked by on the clock on the wall in the kitchen. Spike tried to busy himself with putting away the rest of the articles in the bag. Okay, it was more of an easy question but when he was too honest now, she'd go on asking.

"I write. Short stories, poetry, that stuff. Needed a job to do at home. I've done that all my life and now I live on it." he replied shortly.

"And that guitar?" Buffy knew it was thin ice she was on. He had these weird mood swings and she didn't know how far she could go without pissing him off again.

"I used. to play. in a band, before my accident." There it was, the stuff he didn't want to talk about.

"And.. ehm.. do you still play?"

"No." he snapped and Buffy jumped. "I mean," he continued more softly, "I gave up on it. Was thinking about the headlines 'punk-rocker in wheelchair on stage'. Not the reputation a band needs, right?" His jaws tightened around his words. Please, let her just shut her mouth and go. He really didn't want to get more into that stuff.

"Oh, okay. " Buffy nodded, her hand clenching around the hem of her shirt. She couldn't ask more, she knew it. The ice under her feet had already cracked under the presure, one more step and it would break.

"You can go, if you want." Spike mumbled as he counted the change. Not that he thought that she kept some money, it was a habbit and it was hard to break.

"Ok. See you tomorrow then." Buffy nodded again. She couldn't help it but she had the uneasy feeling in her stomach that she'd said something she shouldn't have. She just did not know what it was and he wasn't showing.

She waited a couple of seconds for him to answer but nothing came, so she turned around and left the apartment.

Spike sat in silence for a few minutes, before he stuffed the change into a wallet he kept hidden in the kitchen.

Why did she have to bring up all that stuff. She was here for what? Two days?She started messing up his life already. The life he had tried to organize so he could live it without all the pain and the horrible memories that haunted him.

But there she was. Asking about his life, his past. Why he didn't play guitar anymore, what he was doing for a living. Nobody asked him that cause he was avoiding contact with people for three years now. Three long years in which he'd built up a barriere of avoidence,and solitude. And she was kicking at that wall.

part 4 Feeback  
back


	5. A Walk In The Park

Spinning the Wheel 04 - A Walk In The Park

Buffy sat down on her bed, turning her purse upside down to shake out it's contents.  
Somewhere in her glorious collection of lollipop wrappings, bills and whatnots she'd lost her spanking new lip-gloss she would desperately need when she went to college the next day.

She roamed through the pile until she found it. With a triumphant "Aha." she twisted it open and applied some of the glossy substance to her lips. The faint scent of peaches drifted to her nose and she inhaled deeply.

Suddenly, Buffy frowned.

Keys? She'd left her keys in the hall down by the door. What the heck.? Oh no.

The blond woman grabbed the keys that lay within the pile on her bedspread. "Great."  
She'd forgotten to put Spike's keys back in their place in the hall of his apartment. She must have stuffed them into her purse when she'd juggled with the grocery bag and the door and now she'd completely forgotten them.

Not that he'd leave house, she assumed, but he must think that she had stolen them or something.

Buffy bit her lower lip as she let the keys slide through her fingers.  
She hadn't given them a second look, just a couple of keys. But now she gave them a closer look.

Besides the key for the main door and the one for the apartment, there was a car key, indicating the fitting lock as the one of a Ford Mustang. And there was a tiny brass Union Jack dangling from it. The colors were embedded into the metal and the slight golden shimmer gleamed in the light of the lamp.  
And there was a little silver guitar dangling from the key-chain. It was a miniature duplicate of the one at Spike's place, including the engraving.

Buffy looked down at the small guitar, a sad expression flickered over her face. She remembered his hesitation and his snappy comeback as she'd asked if he was still playing. It must've been hard, being in a band and all and suddenly he couldn't perform anymore. Of course, he still could but like he said, he wouldn't fit on stage.  
The accident kicked him out of the team.

Buffy sighed deeply.

God, why did she even care? It wasn't her job. She just had to go there a couple of days more and that would be it. She didn't need to go back there anymore, didn't have to see him anymore, didn't have to worry what too say and what not.  
Being with him was too exhausting and it depressed her.

"Hello?" Buffy called into the apartment and pushed the door open. She didn't want to trespass, you never knew what people were doing without a watchful eye.

As she stepped into the apartment, she heard the rattle of metal from down the hall.

Buffy frowned and made a cautious step forward. What the hell was he doing in there?

"Spike?" she asked carefully as she went down the hall, heading towards the door that led into his training-room.

"What?" came the strained answer and Buffy rounded the corner and stepped into the room.

Her mouth fell open for a second before she caught herself as Spike looked up at her.  
He was sitting under one of those crossbars you pull down behind your head, beads of sweat glistened on his bare chest, muscles rippling under his too pale skin. His legs were strapped to the bench to keep them from slipping away.

When he saw her he let go of the bar and the weights slammed down behind him, the metallic clatter hollowing in the room. As the weights came down Buffy jumped slightly at the sudden clatter.

"You're early. Didn't expect you." he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

For a moment, Buffy could just stare at him. She was completely paralysed by his unexpectedly toned body. He told her that he was working out the other day, but she hadn't expected that.  
But another thing that caught her attention, were the massive scars on both of his legs. They were all too visible beneath the short sweatpants. One was running down from his left thigh over the knee and faded at his shin. The other one started at his right shin a disappeared at his calf.  
Those scars looked nasty, Buffy had never seen anything like that before.

"You still in there?" Spike asked, looking at her more intently, a cocky smile playing around his lips.

"Huh?" Buffy snapped back into reality and shook her head to get some clear thought back into the mix. "Yeah, I'm. I came here right after my classes. Is that okay? I can go and come back later." She pointed her thumb at the door, almost turning around to leave.

"No, it okay." he answered and unfastened the straps around his legs. "I was done anyway."

He pulled the wheelchair that stood about a foot away a little closer, thumbed down the brakes to keep it from rolling away and rested his hands on the armrests.

"How did you get in here? I didn't hear you ring." With that, he lifted himself up, spun around and sat down in the wheelchair.

Buffy watched him for a second. This movement looked so well trained that it almost hurt to see how much he'd got used to sit in that chair.

"I didn't." she said with a little hesitation. "I forgot to put the keys back yesterday. I let myself in. Sorry about that." Buffy felt the heat creep up in her cheeks although she didn't know why. It wasn't as if she's walked into some kind of. inappropriate situation or anything like that. Why did she even care?

"No need to be. I don't need the keys anyway. I don't go out much." Spike adjusted his legs into a more comfortable position, as much as it was possible to do so since he didn't feel his legs.

"But you should." Buffy blurted. Where did that thought come from? Was she going completely around the bend? What was she doing here? She really should stop caring. There was no need to all this was just temporary because she'd made a mistake, nothing more.

"Pardon?" Spike looked at her as surprised as she was about that statement. This girl was even more weird than he'd thought.

"I mean. " she hesitated again, blushing a little more. "You should go out a little more." Well, duh, Buffy. You're the queen of pointless and totally stupid conversations. "I mean."

"And I mean that it is none of your business where and when I go. If you don't mind, I'll _go_ and have a shower." He moved past her, shooting her an angry look.

Buffy stood there for several seconds, she didn't move, she didn't even dare to breath.  
She couldn't understand what happened just then.  
First of all, there was the half-naked-glory that was burned into the back of her mind from now until forever.  
And second, there was this oh-so-stupid statement she'd made out of the blue. It just came out. Actually, it wasn't that bad but he seemed to take it for more than it was. And now he was all angry again. Why not? This couldn't get any worse, really. She thought they were starting to get along better after he didn't seem to care that she'd taken his keys and now they were all the way back into the hate.

The blonde shook her head, snapped out of her reverie and walked over into the living-room.

Water was pouring down his back as Spike leaned forwards, his hands resting on his knees, his head bowed down.  
He has a special construction built in his shower that made it possible for him to almost sit in it. He had just turned on the hot water and hadn't moved since then. The sharp needles of the spray prickled on his skin as he tried to get the aches and knots out of his muscles.  
He knew he should be having massages but he just didn't feel like it. That - again - would mean other people who cared. He really had enough of those. And he had bigger problems than some kinks in his back. The first priority was to get that Buffy out of his life as soon as possible. He knew she couldn't help being here, it was her probation task, but he had to keep her at bay.  
Maybe he should just give into some of the things she said, feeding her with what she wanted to know. Maybe that was the best way to keep her from poking into his business.

Half an hour later, Spike appeared in the living-room, wash and dressed again. Buffy thanked the Lord for making him not show up without a shirt again. That was a major distraction she didn't need.

"So?" he announced his presence in the room and Buffy looked up.

She'd been sitting on the sofa, fumbling with the hem of her shirt, thinking about how to make up for the thing she said. As he appeared, she stood.

"Look, I'm. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean that back there. It just came out. I know that. it it's none of my business what you do and what you don't do. I just." she knew she started to ramble but she wanted this thing to be over and done with.

"Buffy." he interrupted. "It's okay. You're right." A too thin smile spread on his lips and Buffy looked startled.

"I'm what?"

"You're right. I should go out more often. You wanna drink a coffee with me at the Espresso Pump?" Sounds good, he added in his thoughts. It seemed like the nice, right tactic to keep her on the leash. If he gave her that she'd be satisfied.

Buffy didn't know what to say for the first moment. She'd expected that he'd shout at her to stop sticking her nose into his life but that. That was weird.

"Ehm, sure. Sounds good to me. I need something from that gift shop anyway." She smiled at him, trying to cover her confusion.

"Great." Spike nodded briefly, twisted around and moved into the hall to grab his jacket from a hook beneath the small cupboard where Buffy had dropped the keys earlier. "Mind if I take the keys now?"

"I already apologised for that, ok? No need to bug me." Buffy snapped and stopped in her tracks when she saw Spike's grin as he held the door open for her.

"Ease up, Buffy. I'm kidding."

Buffy frowned and passed by him, waiting outside in the hall. Was she in the wrong movie? Did she miss something? Suddenly Spike's behaviours bordered were friendly. Since he'd left the shower, he really talked to her and smiled. They knew each other for about a week and he never really smiled. A tiny flicker in the corners of his lips but this time it almost touched his eyes, too.

Why was he suddenly talking to her like they were some kind of friends? Like he actually liked her? Should she give into that? Better not. It was better to play it safe and wait to see what this was all about. This way she could manoeuvre around his next mood swing.

"You should take the stairs. The elevator is too small for the two of us." Spike pushed the button and the elevator rattled it's way upstairs, the door buzzing open with a quiet bing

"Okay, I'll wait downstairs then." Buffy turned around, heading down the stairs.

She didn't see how Spike entered the cabin and pushed the button for the first floor. And how he was twisting around easily. The cabin wasn't actually too small. It wasn't big but he simply didn't want her to be too close.

The Espresso Pump was crowded this afternoon and they had to wait a few minutes to get a table they both could sit at.

Buffy headed for the counter to order their drinks. A cappuccino with a shot of vanilla for her, and a simple mug of black coffee for Spike.  
As she carried the cups back to their table the strong smell of the coffee drifted to her nose.

"How can you drink that stuff without half a cow of milk and tons of sugar?" she asked, carefully setting the cups down.

"You get used to everything. Coffee's my drug of choice." Spike shrugged, pulling the cups towards him and staring into the pitch black brew.

He knew people were looking at him. They had all the way from his place into town and they did now, eyeing him from the corners of their eyes, asking themselves how he got into the chair and how a young girl like Buffy could hang out with him. He knew they were pitying him and he hated it.

Buffy stirred her drink to mix the cappuccino with the vanilla syrup. The sweet smell was definitely better than the coffee.  
The way he'd said that he got used to it, gave her a sting in the heart. It sounded sad and resigned.

"So." she started after a while of awkward silence. She wanted to say something without knowing what it was.

"Yeah?" Spike looked up and took a sip from his drink, preparing for her questions to him in the gut.

"You're. ehm. working out a lot, huh?" Hurrah for the stupid question, Buff. You're so smart.

Spike nodded briefly. That was an easy one. "Yeah, I have to. I wouldn't be able to move with this thing, and in and out of it without some muscles." He nodded down towards the chair and shrugged again.  
He tried to make it sound as casual as possible to keep her from asking any further about it.

"Aha." And here goes the intelligence. Buffy could slap herself. She wanted him to talk to her to ease up the uncomfortable silence but she didn't know what to say. Instead she was making a complete fool out of herself.

"You're in college?" he asked after a while. Not that he cared, he just wanted her to say something.

"Yeah, I'm in my second year." she nodded, burying her nose in the milk-foam and wiping it away with a napkin.

"What do you study?" Come on. say something consisting more than two and a half syllables, keep the conversation going.

"Well, I did psych last year, but the professor went missing, the hell knows where she went. I tried pop culture but got kicked out in the first lesson cause I talked to my neighbour and now I'm trying sociology and I'm taking a theatre class for fun. But I'm not too much of a school gal. My best friend Willow got the book smarts." Buffy rambled. She was glad she could talk about something she didn't have to worry that it hurt him.

"Willow's the redhead, I guess. The one who called the ER team?"

"Yeah. There you see the smarts. I was totally paralysed." Buffy looked up and saw Spike's jaw clench over that word. "No. pun. intended. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"You don't need to apologize every time. I'm aware of my situation, no need to remind me." he snapped, sipping intently his coffee, his eyes fixed on the rim of the mug.

Buffy sat back for a second. There it was again. The kind of friendly atmosphere had popped like a bubble and there was the tension and the hate again. She had to do something about it or they both would die from it in the long run.

"Look, I'm just trying to get along, ok? I haven't been in such a situation before, this is new for me. I don't know what to say to you so I won't piss you off. Whatever I say you get all grumpy on me and when I try to apologize I'm only fueling the fire. Either we find a way to make this work for the next two weeks or I'll go to the judge and ask her to arrest me for a day to make up for my probation."

Spike looked at her, trying to hide his surprise about her sudden outburst. And what he saw surprised him even more than her words. She almost looked helpless to him, confused. To see that look in her eyes made him understand. Just a little but he realized that she really cared. She wanted this to work, one way or the other.

After several seconds passed, he tore his eyes away, looking down into his coffee again.

"I'm sorry." he mumbled, inaudibly to the blonde in front of him.

"What?" Buffy asked, snapping out of her own reverie. The way Spike had looked at her was a surprise for her, too. She'd expected him to jump up and run away. or to sit and spin for that matter. But instead he's just looked at her with these all to blue eyes.

"I'm sorry." he repeated, looking up again and meeting her eyes. "I'm. I'm not good at this. I don't. have such a good way with people. I don't have much contact with them." he felt embarrassed to say that, revealing so much, more than he ever thought he would. It wasn't much but admitting that wasn't his usual amount of sharing.

"Why?" Buffy asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could think about it.

Spike sank back into his chair, fumbling with the saucer. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers again and for the first time since they'd met they really looked at each other. Her eyes held even more concern then before although she tried to cover it as best as possible. She was really interested, something he hadn't seen in people for a long time.

And his eyes bore more than Buffy wanted to know. It made her shiver despite the warmth and the hot cappuccino. She saw so much pain, loss and hurt that it made her sick to her stomach. How could he just look at her and reveal thousand times as much as he could have said? He was hiding things behind a thick wall of trained self-control, things he was struggling with and that she didn't want to dip into, things that were bad, things that hurt more than anyone could bear without going around the bend. Secret she didn't want to reveal, memories she didn't want to stir.

"I. withdrew from them, pretty much." he said in a calm voice, nothing reminding her of the possible rage that was close to the surface. "And those who still tried to connect to me, I chased away shortly after." This, too, sounded so resigned that Buffy felt a sting in her heart.

"Don't you have any family around?" she asked. She had noticed his British accent, counting alone the curses she'd heard from him since they'd met.

"No, they are either back in England or dead. Mostly both." he shrugged, twisting the mug around on the saucer, before picking it up and lifting it up to his lips.

"Oh." Buffy wasn't able to come up with something better than that. She was wondering if he had a girlfriend. She hadn't seen any girl stuff at his place so far, no lipsticks or perfume in the bathroom, no left clothing in the living-room. But she couldn't ask. Although it seemed like they were connecting on some level now, she couldn't go that far. "But. ehm. how do you. I mean how do you manage. everything without any help?"

"As I said, you can get used to everything." He quirked his eyebrows and twisted his mouth in a pseudo-shrug. "I. developed kind of a system, like putting my stuff into the bottom drawers, replacing glass with plastic and so on. I try to be as independent as possible."

Is that right, Buffy thought but bit back the words. These were possibly the most words in a row she'd heard from him so far. She didn't want to ruin the moment.

"But you. you should try." she said instead, biting her lip. Suddenly, she felt the urge to cheer him up a little. She couldn't stand people around her being sad or depressed.

"Try what, luv. Be a little more specific on that one, will you?"

"I mean. you should try to. meet people. I don't know, maybe you should go out more often."

"Like hell I well."

Suddenly the moment was gone. The open hearts were closing their gates again. There he was again, snappy and grumpy as always.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I just think about you should give it a try. And maybe you'll see that not everyone is all about pity. Maybe you'll find somebody who really cares." Buffy continued despite the ruined atmosphere. She wanted to bring forth her point before everything got spoiled.

"I know." he admitted. "But I just can't, ok? Leave it how it is, I'm fine with it."

"Okay, your choice. Do whatever you like, for all I care." Buffy shrugged. She was disappointed that he didn' t give in to the thought. Not that she wanted to go out with him or anything, it was just when she had to spend her social hours with him she wanted them to be as social as possible.

Silence sank between them. But it wasn't as awkward as it had been before. The first tension was gone now. They had made clear their position.  
She knew that it was just his way with people that he couldn't pretty much be in company. And he knew that she just tried to make it work, that she wasn't extra-curious, she just wanted to deal with it as smooth as possible.

"We should. go back. Your hour's almost over." Spike moved back from the table, waiting for Buffy to nod and rise, too.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I need to go to the gift shop. I need some decoration. You wanna join or.?"

"No, there are. stairs" he felt a little embarrassed to admit this and snorted in disgust.

"Yeah, I forgot. Well. see you tomorrow then." She nodded and smiled.

"Sure. So long, then." With that he turned around, moving down the main road towards his apartment.

Buffy watched the young man for some time. He didn't turn around to catch her staring at his back.  
Today, he'd surprised her. She didn't know how much pain he had bottled up inside. She didn't want to know exactly what it all was about because she imagined it to be horrible but now she knew what she was dealing with. She knew how to treat him best without pouring salt into the wounds too much.

They would get along better now. She was sure of it.

part 5 Feeback  
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	6. Retrospective

Spinning The Wheel 05 - Retrospective

"You're what?"

"I'm moving out. I can't do this anymore."

"You can't leave me, I need you."

"I can do what I please. Pull over. I want to get out."

"No, you won't. Explain it to me. Why do you want to leave? I don't understand."

"And that's my point, darling. You don't see. All you see is your music and the band. Your eyes are not on me anymore. Not like they used to."

"Luv, that's not true. I still have eyes for you, always will. I love you, baby."

"No, you don't. Pull over."

"I won't. We talk this out. Everything will be all right. I swear."

"No, it won't. Nothing's gonna be all right. It's over. Accept that."

"Luv, you can't just…"

"Watch out!!"

CRASH!!!

Spike awoke with a short scream. He was shaking all over, beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and chest. He had to bite his lip to keep it from shaking. Tears stung his eyes and he was close to screaming.

He flopped back on the couch. One of his legs dangled uselessly from it but he refused to get into a more comfortable position since he couldn't feel it anyway.

His heart was racing, slamming furiously in his chest. He covered his widened eyes with his hands, forcing them shut and the tears back to whatever horrid place they came from.

The dream. There it was again. Like every night, or at least every night that he could remember. The dream that haunted him for three years now, that was stuck in his mind, on the back of his eyelids for the rest of eternity. The dream that wasn't a dream. The dream that was real, that was his past.

Why couldn't he just die from a heart attack on one of those nights? That would make everything a whole lot easier.  
In death he wouldn't need to feel the guilt, the pain and the loss. It was all too much. He couldn't bear it any longer. It would either drive him insane or he would kill himself.

No. He wouldn't. He had tried once but failed, couldn't perform, couldn't end his own miserable existence. He remembered sitting in the bathroom in the tub, the knife already in his hand, the blade itching against his vulnerable skin. Blood had trickled down his wrist already but he couldn't go further. He couldn't finish it.

With a furious roar he'd tossed the knife through the room, the cold steel blade clattering on the tiled floor.  
He'd sat there for a while until the bleeding stopped. He had cried that day, so hard that he thought he could never stop, that he would rather cry himself to death than bleed.  
He was even more pathetic than he'd ever thought, not been able to off himself.

Spike grabbed the pillow from under his head, pressing it down on his face, the soft material soaked up the sweat and the tears.

He couldn't breath and he wouldn't. He would end it now.

He stayed like that for almost a minute. Until the natural survival reflexes kicked in and he threw the pillow down on the floor.

More tears spilled down his cheeks as he cried in the dark. He just couldn't do it.

And suddenly he saw Buffy's face in front of his inner eyes, the look of concern on her face when she asked him about his family and friend and when he'd told her that he was alone.  
She really did care then, in that tiny moment.

And he had felt comfort in that look. It wasn't like the mocked concern most people gave him, it was real, it felt real at least. He had felt the spark of warmth in her eyes. That had been like a ray of sunlight after long months of a bristling cold winter. It felt like a piece of ice started to melt slowly, the water running down into the earth, feeding the small seeds stored deep down.

He had never believed that this would ever happen again, and as it did now, he tried to push that thought away.  
He'd seen how this girl was. She wasn't different from any other person. The flicker of concern had just been there for a second. Like a twenty-year old mall-girl would really care about a guy like him. A wreck, a cripple, a totally useless member of society.

With that thought in mind, he picked up his pillow again, tucking it under his head. He shifted into a more comfortable position and fell asleep almost immediately. The crying and the thoughts about Buffy making him unbelievably tired.

The dream didn't come back and he was glad about it. He nestled deeper into his pillow, unaware of the flicker of Spring spreading inside him.

Buffy lay on her side, the blanket wrapped around her thin form. The alarm clock on her bedside table was blinking '3.27'. She had been awake now for what? Two and a half hours trying desperately to get some sleep, but the sleep wouldn't come.

After Spike had left, the blonde had been to the gift-shop Rupert Giles owned. He was a friend of the family ever since they moved here from Los Angeles. Buffy's mother had an art gallery and over that they came in touch.

After she'd collected all the stuff she needed for her birthday party in two weeks, she went home, trying to finish a very urgent paper for her sociology class. She'd found it hard to concentrate on what she was writing and it took her three attempts to finally get it done.  
It wouldn't be her best work but at least she had something to show.

Now, she was lying in her bed. She was tired but she couldn't sleep. She was staring out of one of her window, the moon threw a pale light into her room and bathed it in silver shadows.

The talk this afternoon spun in her head. She couldn't let it go, couldn't forget how hopeless hopeless Spike's words had sounded, how much pain he had shown in his eyes. He was lonely and how he'd explained it bothered her more than she thought it would.

He wanted to be alone. He had even driven friends away. He had a talent in that, no doubt, but she couldn't understand why. Nobody wanted to be alone by choice.

She remembered all too well when her farther had left. Though her mother and her sister were still around she'd felt lost, left alone. A part of her family was gone and as it seemed would never come back.  
In a way she was glad about it, her dad had disappointed her, had destroyed her picture of a perfect family. When she was little, she had the nightmare that he'd come back and tell her that it was her fault, that she had driven him away. Now she knew better , but it was still nagging in the back of her mind.

So she had some kind of image of what it must feel like to live alone, not to have anybody to talk to. But why did he choose that? There had to be a reason and she knew that it wasn't just the fact that he was in that chair. There had to be something else.

She'd sensed some kind of loss in the way he looked at her. His gaze was open for her in a way she'd never experienced before. But why loss? Well, he had lost the ability to walk but that couldn't be it.  
As he said, he could get used to that. There was something else, Buffy was sure.

But she was just as sure that she could never ask him. First, he wouldn't tell, second, he'd be horribly mad at her for asking.  
She had trouble finding the right words in his presence anyway but that was a topic she could never touch without fearing he would rip her head off.

Buffy felt a pang in her heart as she remembered his look. It was burned into the back of her mind ever since then.  
Deep inside here, something was stirring. She couldn't figure it out yet, but suddenly, she cared. She wanted to know what it was all about, why he acted and reacted the way he did, why he choose to be alone. She wanted to know what he had been like before the accident and what had changed his life so profoundly.

With a disgusted grunt, Buffy turned on her back. No, she wouldn't start caring now. She just wanted this to be over, didn't want to know why he was such a bastard. She didn't even like him, so why was she giving any thought about him.  
She pushed the thought as far as possible back into the depth of her mind so they wouldn't bother her anymore and let her sleep a little.  
She had classes tomorrow and she didn't want to look like some kind of dead girl walking.

Avoiding the pictures and the little amount of concern that was bubbling up inside, exhausted her. And slowly, she drifted off into sleep.

part 6 Feeback  
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	7. Tea For Two

Spinning the Wheel 06 – Tea For Two

It hadn't stopped raining since last night. When Buffy awoke the sky was all grey and cloudy. Mist was hanging in the air and the sun had no chance of poking through the clouds.

What was wrong with the weather lately? First it was hot like in Death Valley so you had to hang around refrigerators or the a/c all day.  
And now, out of nowhere, it started raining and didn't seem that it would stop so soon, plus the temperature seemed to have dropped a couple of degrees.

Buffy grunted in disgust as she jumped over a puddle on the sidewalk. The legs of her pants were already soaked and her hair dangled, dripping water into her face.  
She was so stupid not to take an umbrella with her.

As the apartment building came into sight she let out a sigh of relief and sped up a little.  
Panting she reached for the door and rang the bell.

The intercom buzzed to life with a static crackle.

"Yeah?" she heard Spike's voice and thanked god that he was fast. A little longer in the half-sheltered doorway would left her soaked to the bone.

"It's me," she rasped, her voice a little hoarse from running the whole way.

The door buzzed and she pushed it open. The soles of her shoes made a squelching sound on the linoleum floor. The door to the apartment was – as always – open ajar and Buffy knocked before stepping in.

"Hello?" she asked cautiously. She didn't want to run in on him like last time. The picture of him shirtless flashed in her mind, leaving her slightly blushed despite the cool chill caused by her wet clothes.

"I'm here." She heard his voice from down the hall, from the room she hadn't discovered yet.

It turned out to be some kind of office. There was a desk with a laptop at the opposite wall of the door under the window. A shelf to the right held dozens of books, most of them obviously had been read judged by the mangled backs and pages.  
On her left stood a keyboard, connect with something that looked like it was taken out of a sound studio but Buffy couldn't figure out what one could do with it.

"There you are." she announced her presence. Spike sat with his back to the door in front of the laptop, typing with fast fingers.

"Just a sec." he said but he sounded completely absent.

"Sure. Take your time."

Several minutes passed and Buffy was rocking back on the balls of her feet. The blonde woman was shivering more and more as time went by.

"So…" Spike explained, shutting the computer down and turning around. "What… you're soaked. Is it still raining?"

"Well, yeah." Buffy frowned. He was sitting right in front of a window and he didn't realise that? Weird.

"You're shivering. Wait, I'll get you a towel." He passed by her, entered the bathroom on the opposite site of the hallway and handed her a big, fluffy, dark blue towel.

"Thanks." Buffy wrapped it around her shoulder, nesting her nose into the soft material. She took in a deep breath as the warmth crept back into her body, breathing in the fresh smell of the towel.

"I can make some tea if you want. So you don't catch a cold." saying that, Spike moved into the living room and on into the kitchen.

"Thanks." Buffy repeated. "But you don't need to." Despite her own words she followed him.

"But I want to. Sit down." he said from behind the kitchen counter, roaming through the cabinets. Where the hell did he put that damn kettle? "Ah, there it is." he exclaimed. "You should think the British know where they put there tea-kettles but no…. I've lived in this country for too long." he said more to himself than to the soaked woman on his couch.

"What?" she asked. She didn't quite make out his words.

"Hm? Nothing. I was just ranting." He filled the silver kettle and put it on the stove, switching it on and rolling back to look for the tea.  
In the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Buffy. She had sat down on his couch, had slipped out of her shoes and was now making herself comfortable, pulling her legs beneath her Indian style.  
She tried to dry the tips of her long blonde hair to keep it from dripping on his couch. It was a nice picture, seeing her like that. The impression of the shop girl in the expensive skirt and top faded for a second, she almost looked vulnerable to him.

As the kettle piped, Spike snapped out of his thoughts. The breath caught in his lungs and for a second he could just stare blankly, blinking his way back into reality.  
What was wrong with him? Where did these thoughts come from that Buffy was pretty, even vulnerable? Was he out of his mind now? Did the nightmare last night finally drive him around the bend?

Spike pulled the kettle from the stove and the piping faded. From another cabinet he produced a carton with several sorts of tea. Well, actually it was just one.  
"Is.. ehm.. caramel-vanilla okay with you?" he asked, frowning at the label.

"Yeah, sure." Buffy confirmed. She rubbed her nose with the towel. Deep inside her, she felt a bug settling into her system.

"I don't know where the hell that tea came from but it smells good, so.." He carried two mugs on a little tray in his lap when he came back into the living room. He stopped beside the coffee table and handed her one of the cups.

"Thanks." His warm fingers brushed again her cold ones and contact made her shiver. She kept her eyes fixed on the mug. If she looked up now she would blush, she already felt the heat creeping into her cheeks out of no particular reason.

"Don't drink it down all at once, its still pretty hot." he said, placing the tray on the table, taking his own cup into both hands. He stared down into the brownish liquid, his earlier thoughts still confusing him.

Buffy nodded, but kept her head down. She wrapped her hands around the warm mug, trying to warm up a little.

An awkward silence settled between them, both of them not daring to say anything.  
It was weird after yesterday. At the Espresso Pump they had a real talk and now they were back to the awkward silences, Buffy hated so much.

This situation was awkward enough, there was no such silence needed.  
Buffy felt embarrassed sitting on his couch with his towel wrapped around her. She must look horrible with her hair all wet and out of shape.

"So, ehm.. you got everything you needed yesterday?"

The blonde snapped out of her reverie. "What?"

"The gift shop? Did you get everything?" Spike repeated. Not that he really wanted to know but he had to say something or they would both die of the horrible silence.  
It was strange, though. For three years he never had much contact to other people, he didn't talk much but now it was unbearable not to.

"Yeah, Giles had everything I needed. He always does." Buffy smiled at the thought of the British shopkeeper and took a sip from her tea, the sweet taste filling her senses.

"Giles?" he asked a little confused.

"Yes, he owns the shop. He's a friend of the family ever since we moved here."

"You're not from her?" Why was he asking all this? Why did he care?

"No, well.. not exactly. We lived in LA until we moved here five years ago."

"Mhm.." he said, not really knowing what else to say to that.

"Why are you here?" Buffy asked back. She bit her lip. Was she going too far already? Could she ask that? "In America, I mean."

Spike nodded as he finally understood what she was up to. "The band. We got a contract here in the States. So we moved over."

"What music did you guys play?" Buffy took a sip from her tea. She just wanted to keep the conversation going. This familiar atmosphere was more than she could bear at the moment. It was all too nice and friendly and after she lay awake almost the whole night thinking about him and his situation, the thoughts were still lingering in the back of her mind, ready to pop up in any given moment.

"Punk, basically, rock.. that stuff." he said hesitantly.

"Can you.. ehm.. do you have any CDs?" she asked carefully.

Spike didn't answer immediately. He really didn't want to go there again, he could push her back, refuse.  
"Yeah, I have some stuff on the computer." he said before he could think about it. He had no idea why he'd said that. He just wanted to reject her.

With a little sigh he put the mug down and made his way back into the office. Buffy followed him, the towel still wrapped around her shoulders and the mug in her hands.

"It's a pretty rough version, was supposed to be a demo for our second album. But it never made it." he said while starting the computer again. He switched on the speakers connected to the laptop.  
Then, he turned around seeing Buffy standing in the doorway. "Oh.. there's a chair.. just put the stuff on the floor.

Buffy looked around saw the chair standing to her left beside the keyboard. Books and magazines were piled on it so she hadn't noticed it in the first place. So she re-piled the stuff on the floor to her feet and sat down.

"Don't expect too much. It's not that good." He turned towards the laptop again, hit a few key and the music started playing.

The first hard guitar riffs made Buffy jump a little and the fast drumbeat made her frown.  
Punk wasn't her music, really, but she had asked for it.  
But suddenly the guitar and drum stopped and were replaced by a pretty sensual keyboard. The soft melody stood in sharp contrast to the song's intro.

_Lonely I saw you standing there  
blackest dress and blackest hair,  
looked at me like no tomorrow  
felt no pain and knew no sorrow._

You filled my body, my veins, my heart  
been never social, never smart,  
made me run on overdrive  
felt like the first night of my life.

Buffy sat there, listening in silence. She recognised Spike singing this song, his British accent still audible. It just had to be him. She licked her lips when the guitar kicked back in with the hard riffs, contrasting to the ballad-style singing.

"That's… that's beautiful. Is that you?" She had to know for sure. She hadn't expected him to be such a good singer. She'd seen his guitar and he had told her that he had been in a band but that was.. it was amazing.

For an answer, Spike just nodded. He couldn't speak. He had turned around because he had already known that this would happen. To stifle a sob he bit his lip so hard that he drew blood. Slowly, he lifted his hand to prop his head on it, wiping a lonely tear out of the corner of his eye.  
He knew he must be quivering, hopefully she didn't notice.

In a flash of memory he saw himself up on stage, in front of the audience, the mic in his hand and the other band member behind him.  
He saw the lighters in the hands of the people at his feet, the flames flickering, the spotlights bathing the stage into a dark red light. And he saw her, standing way back in the club over at the bar, a glass in her hand. She smiled and her beautiful eyes promised things, some of which he'd mentioned in some songs. This was her song, devoted to her, only for…

"Spike?" Buffy stood and made a careful step towards him. She sensed something was wrong with him, his shoulders were shivering as if he was freezing to death. "Is everything alright?"

"Can you…" he croaked, his voice heavy with tears and memory. "Please go."

"Can.. can I help you? If you need…"

"GO!" he interrupted her, spinning halfway around and Buffy caught a glimpse of his red eyes and his tear-stained face. The breath hitched in her throat as she put the mug down, letting the towel drop to the floor.

"Alright. Sure." she staggered backwards. His outburst had startled her and for a split second she was almost afraid of him. So she was glad when he turned around again and she was out of the room.

From down the hallway she could hear his sobs, his crying. She couldn't remember seeing a grown man crying, even weeping. It scared her and she desperately wanted to leave but for about a minute she couldn't move.  
She stood, paralysed, at the front door and listened. There was a horrid fascination to it but there was also something else. She cared, she wanted to go back in there and comfort him as best as she could.  
If she wouldn't have been so stupid to ask if he had a sample of his music, he wouldn't be crying now. It was her fault. Their relation wasn't getting any better, she made it worse, constantly. It was better if she would go now, go and leave him be. She couldn't help him although there was a desperate pull deep inside her to go back in there and take him into her arms.

With a resigned sigh, she turned around and left the apartment.

part 7 Feeback  
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	8. The CleanUp

Spinning the Wheel 07 - The Clean-Up

Spike put his cup into the sink and turned on the faucet, letting the dishes soak in the hot water.  
His breakfast this morning had been even more depressing than usual. He was used to depression in every shape and color but yesterday gnawed at him like an evil little beaver.

Not only had the song brought back stuff he had tried to push back into the deepest dwell in the back of his mind but the scared expression on Buffy's face was the thing that did it.

Although she was a plaque, although she had the talent - without missing a single step - to stomp into every unpleasant memory available, he couldn't blame her this time.

It was his fault. He hadn't thought about the consequences of the song, what it would dig up. The flashback had overwhelmed him, his bottled up emotions erupting from him in a way he hadn't expected and he had shocked Buffy.

He'd seen it on her face, in her widened eyes even in the split second he'd turned around.  
He didn't want her to see him crying of all things, but he didn't mean to scare her.

Yesterday, they had a nice talk over a cup of tea. He'd sensed some kind of connection then as if there was a flicker of sympathy between them. The way she'd looked all soaked and freezing, wrapped in his towel with the mug in her hand.  
And they talked about everyday stuff, about where they came from. And it felt…

A knock in the front door startled him and his thoughts trailed off. Who would knock on his door?   
Was it somebody from the house? Probably not. He didn't even know their names. And anybody from outside would ring downstairs.

Spike turned the water off to keep his the sink from flooding and moved into the hallway.  
He couldn't look through the peak hole in the door, it was too high. So, he just opened the door.  
But only to moved back a few inches in surprise.

"Hi." Buffy blushed and stared down on the tiled floor. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and she fumbled with her purse nervously.

"Buffy? What…what are you doing here?" was all he could ask. Of all people in the world, she was the last one he did not expect to see.

"I'm… I'm just..." she looked up briefly, just to reveal a pretty red nose. Her voice also sounded hoarse, the flu had really got to her. "I just wanted to see if you're ok. God... this is such a stupid idea, I'm sorry… I better…"

She turned around to leave for the stairs but Spike follow her and grabbed her by the wrist.  
Out of reflex she pulled back a little only to feel his fingers close around hers.

"No, luv, please... wait. Why don't come in for a sec?" He asked, pulling back his hand. He let it drop into his lap, looking down at it as if it had a life of its own. He didn't want to step into her private space, it had just been reflex.

Buffy swallowed. "If... if I'm not bothering you. I could just…"

"No." He looked up at her, afraid that she might leave again. So, he moved back behind the door and let her in. He gestured her to walk past him into the living room as he closed the door.

"Look… about yesterday…" Buffy began as he followed her.

"I'm sorry." they said simultaneously and looked at each other in surprise.

"What?" Buffy was the first to break the confused silence.

"I'm... I didn't mean to scare you off." Spike began, not able to look at her. "This... this song... was pretty personal. I hadn't thought about what it... might bring up. It was my fault. I'm sorry about that."

Buffy frowned. Was he really serious about that? "Don't be. I mean... it's all my fault. I'm so stupid. I really shouldn't ask all this. It's not my business, I know that, but... I was just curious. I didn't mean that to happen, you know? And if you hate me now, than I'm totally okay with it. I'll be gone in a sec." she babbled without even realising it.

"I don't." he interrupted, looking up at her. The look in his eyes cut her off.

"Huh?" she shook her head slightly to get focused again.

"I don't hate you." he was almost embarrassed to admit that but it was true. Seeing her confused like that made it even more clear.

"You don't?" Buffy asked quizzically.

"No." he said simply, meeting her eyes with a steady gaze.

"Well…" the blonde didn't know what to say. She thought he would kick her out any second, that he liked even syphilis more than her but this was... well, it was a surprise first of all. "That's a start."

Wryly, he smiled at her and lowered his head again as their eye contact became uncomfortably intense.

"Ehm… would you mind if I just wash my dishes? Water's getting cold." He pulled back a little, waiting for an answer before he would turn around and move over into the kitchen.

"I could... I could do that for you, if you like." she raised her eyebrows pleadingly. She didn't mean to sound pushy. When he didn't say anything immediately she began chewing on her lip.

"Alright, but let me do the drying, okay?" He nodded, the smile still on his face.

"Deal." Buffy stripped from her jacket, leaving it with her purse on the dining table.

The next minutes were spent in silence.  
Buffy stood in front of the sink, washing the few dishes and handed them over to Spike who sat behind her drying them with a towel.

Suddenly, Buffy burst out into a fit of giggling.

"What's so funny?" Spike asked curiously, an eyebrow quirked at her.

"I'm just... if my mom would see me right now, I think she'd die from a heart attack."

"Why?"

"Me and housework are very mixy things, you know. I'm more of a shop girl. I can't cook nor bake, it's a wonder that I'm not breaking your stuff in the process." she explained with a casual shrug.

"I think you're doing just fine."

Buffy turned around to look at him. She tried hard not to give away her surprise. Did yesterday really happen? So why were they suddenly all into compliments and getting along?  
This wasn't the Spike she had left yesterday, totally broken and crying.

"Look, Spike… I'm... I'm really sorry about what happened yesterday." she started again. She had to say it. This had been bothering her since yesterday.

"I told you it was okay. No need to bring it up again." he said, his tone dropped into a more serious level.

Buffy lowered her gaze, the washcloth in her hands, water dripping on the floor. She sighed silently. Why couldn't he just take her apology? It would make her feel so much better just to know that he wasn't angry with her or something

. 

"Look, Buffy." Spike was about to reach his hand out to touch hers but he pulled back before he could even start. Saying her name had drawn enough intention, no need to touch her.

But when she looked down at his with her big green eyes the thoughts were caught in his mind for a second. She was afraid.  
Afraid that he might get angry again, that he might kick her out. And she was confused. This situation was getting to her in the same way it got to him. He dropped his gaze again so he could talk.

"Look. I don't hate you. I know that you're sorry. So am I. It's just... there are things I can't talk about, things that I don't want to talk about. And yesterday was a thing like that, okay? So... please, leave it as it is, will you?"

Buffy tilted her head to look at him.  
He didn't look at her instead he had his eyes focussed in a very interesting spot on the floor.  
His honesty surprised her. Telling her that there was more then he'd gave away, that he had secrets he didn't mean to share was something she didn't expect him to say. It was probably one of the most honest and open moments they had so far.

She swallowed than nodded although he didn't see it.

"Alright, I'll... keep my mouth shut." Which will be hard as hell as I know myself, she thought. "Can... may I use the bathroom?"

Spike rolled back to let her through. "No need to ask."

He watched her as she went by and out of the room.  
What was happening here? Why didn't he just tell her just to shut up and leave him alone forever? No, he had to go all sweet and vulnerable. Great, that would just fuel her fire, would make ask more question about what he couldn't talk about and why.  
He was used to the tough guy talk before but now he was like… yeah, like what? Like jelly, like disgusting green wobbly jelly.

Spike tossed the towel in the counter and propped his elbows on the armrests. What was this girl doing to him? She made him act in ways he didn't know were still inside him. He told her more things than anybody else he'd met in the last three years and they only knew each other for a week. He sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands. He really needed to stop that or she would tare him apart.

Buffy stood in front of the mirror washing her hands. She remembered how she'd seen the massive amount of painkillers in the little closet under the sink.

Were those the things Spike couldn't or wouldn't talk about? His pain? The accident? Or was there still something else behind the curtain that was yet be revealed?

Wait, Buffy... what are you doing? Why do you keep poking your nose into his business? Why do you care, damn it?

'Because you've seen the look in his eyes, because you've seen how lonely he is, how much pain he has do bear. And maybe… just maybe… because you like him.' the little angel on her shoulder told her in a sweet angelic voice.

Buffy rubbed her eyes. She was tired and she felt the cold settling into her system. She hadn't slept much last night, thinking about that song and him crying had kept her awake and running around in the rain with soaked clothing was asking for a tribute now.

She unlocked the door and turned towards the living room when she caught site of his office.  
Well, it wasn't a real office, just a room crammed with all the stuff that didn't fit in the rest of the apartment.

The laptop was closed, the pile of books and other stuff was still in the floor but there was something else that caught her eyes.

Carefully, she entered the room. As if he'd set up a trap to catch any intruders…

Buffy went over to the desk, to the window.  
Several picture frames lay with the face down in the windowsill. The dust on them indicated they hadn't been moved for quite some time.

Slowly, she picked up one of them.  
The glossy picture showing Spike, also fully bleached in a long black leather coat, together with a beautiful young woman. She had raven black hair and the most hypnotising eyes Buffy had ever seen. He had his arms wrapped around her, looking at her with so much adoration that it made Buffy swallow for a second.

She picked up another one, showing a similar picture with both of them leaning towards each other. It seemed like the outside world, even the photographer didn't exist. Just these two, the way they looked at each other. It was love, pure and simple.

A pang of jealousy hit Buffy as she looked at the pictures. Who was this woman? Why hadn't they met? Was she…?

"Would you mind putting that down?"

Buffy jumped when she heard his voice behind her, and pressed the frame against her chest before turning around slowly. She blushed furiously as if being caught with her hand in the cookie jar right before dinner.

"What are you doing here? Is that your way of keeping out of my business?" his eyes shot furious daggers at her when he came a little closer into the room.

"God, Spike... I'm... I'm sorry. I just came by and..."

"Thought you might take a look at my personal stuff? Great thought that. Wanna know what I think? I think you should put these down and go. I'll see you on Monday." his voice was cold as ice. He didn't sound angry but Buffy would've loved him to no end if he shouted at her. This tone was dangerous. As if he would rip her head off one-handed any second.

"O…okay." Buffy passed him quickly, his blazing eyes following her every step. When she was out in the hall she turned around to him, facing his back. "I'm sorry." she said simply.

"I know." he replied without turning around.

About half a minute later he heard the front door clicking shut.  
Then, he moved towards the desk, picking up one of the pictures himself, letting his fingers slid over the glass covering the photograph.

"Why? Why did you leave me?" he whispered to the picture but his voice was 

still too loud for the empty apartment.

No, he wouldn't cry, not again. If he did, he wouldn't be able to stop so soon. So many tears had been shed over these pictures.  
That's why they were all face down. He couldn't bring himself to put them away finally. He had to keep them close, he just couldn't look at them.

But that wasn't his only problem.  
Now, Buffy knew. She knew there was somebody else in his life. Or had been.

part 8 Feeback  
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	9. Research Girl

Spinning the Wheel 08 – Research Girl

"You want me to do what?" Willow raised her eyebrows quizzically.

"Come on, Will. It's not a big deal. It's not like you have never gone sneaking into other people's personal files. Just a peek." Buffy almost whined.

She sat cross-legged on her friend's bed in the dorm at UC Sunnydale. Tara was sitting beside her, her nose stuck in a big book but she was halfway paying attention to the conversation between her lover and her friend. The way she smiled and frowned on occasion gave her away.

"But that was back in my nerdy days when we had nothing better to do on Saturday night's. I'm not doing that anymore, remember? I have my own life to sneak into." She swelled her chest proudly and was almost slipping into the well-known Willow-resolve-face when Buffy hit her with the hurt-best-friend-puppy-eye-look that had always done the trick before.

And it did this time, too.

Willow sighed heavily, reluctantly giving in. She turned towards her laptop on the desk, hitting a few keys.

"So, what do you want to know?" she asked when the computer had connected to the internet.

"Everything you can find expect nude pictures, I guess. I want to know about his accident." Buffy scooted closer to Willow to look over her friend's shoulder.

"You really sure, Buffy? I mean, do you really want to know? Might be… nasty."

"I don't want to but I have to. There is something else than just an accident and I have to know about it. It can't go on like this with the hidden stuff that I keep tapping into. If I want to get along with him I have to know what's behind all this." the blonde explained firmly, a serious expression on her face.

"Okay, your choice." Willow shrugged and opened one of her favourite sites. So much for the 'I don't do that anymore'. "What's his name again?"

"Last name's is Rayne."

"Wasn't his first name said in court?"

"I was too busy not to panic to pay attention. Can't you find it with just the last name?"

"Hey, I'm still me. But it might take longer then with the full name."

Willow started typing in the name and waited for the results to show up.

"Hm… there are some obituaries so I guess that's not him." she mumbled to herself. "Aha."

"What?" Buffy jumped to her feet and stood behind Willow.

"Here's something about a William Rayne... ah, no, that's just a cd-review. False alarm. Sorry."

"Cd-review? Spike was in a band before. Take a look at that." The two girls read over the article on silence. "Yeah, that's him." Buffy confirmed and Willow changed the name in the search-field.

There were less results this time but the very first one caught Buffy's eye immediately. "Click on that." She pointed at the url of a local newspaper. The site took some time to load when it was done Buffy gasped in surprise.

**_Accident on Interstate; Two injured, one dead_**  
_On October 27th the Interstate between Sunnydale and San Barth became the scene of a fatale accident.  
The road had been wet from a few days rain when two cars, a blue Honda and a black DeSoto crashed into one each other. The driver of the Honda walked away with a broken nose, several bruises. He wishes to stay anonymous.  
The driver of the DeSoto William Rayne, singer of the local punk-band 'Bad Evil Things', had been trapped in the car for about 3 hours until fire fighters could free him. Currently, he is in a coma in a local hospital in Sunnydale. Doctors say that he was seriously injured. "His nerves and muscles have been damaged and he may never walk again," so said Dr. Ruth Webber.  
The young woman – apparently William Rayne's girlfriend – in the passenger seat, actress Drusilla Pryce, died in the accident.  
The reasons are still unclear but 'the wet street is a huge factor', says police officer Daniel Montgomerey. The police hope to get more information when Rayne wakes up from the drug induced coma._

Buffy sank down in the bed, re-reading the article.  
As Willow scrolled down on the site, a picture became visible, showing a horribly deformed car with shattered windows and some fire fighters in the background. Beside that there was a picture of the young woman she knew all too well.

"That's the woman in the pictures." Buffy mumbled more to herself than to her friends.

"What?" Willow asked, facing the blonde who became more and more pale as the seconds ticked by.

"She… Spike had pictures of her on his windowsill, all face down. I guess she's… she was his girlfriend. God." she sighed and buried her face in her hands.

That wasn't exactly what she'd expected to find out. She had guessed from his behaviour the other day and the days before that there was something else behind all this than just the accident, than just the fact that he had to sit in a wheelchair. But this…

Buffy couldn't even think the thought to the end. He had lost his girlfriend or so it seemed and that wasn't something to bear easily. A beloved person had been torn away from him.

Buffy remembered losing her cousin Celia when she was little or how her dad went away a few of years ago. It was nothing compared to the thought of losing somebody you really loved. That must be hell.  
And he had been in that accident, too, he must have… oh no, don't think it. And now, he had to live with it. That must be hell.

"Buffy? You alright?" Willow asked after a while, placing a hand on her friend's arm.

Buffy snapped out of her reverie and blinked. "What?"

"Are you alright? You look a little pale." the redhead had a worried frown on her face.

"Yeah, it's just... I didn't expect that. I mean, I knew he was hiding something with all the defensiveness and the pictures turned face down. I just didn't know it was so bad. That's… awful." she sighed again, shaking her blonde head.

"What are you going to do now?" Tara asked suddenly and Buffy turned around to face her. The shy girl looked at her with real concern.  
That's what she liked about Tara. They didn't know each other that well but the young woman had some kind of ability to always sound warm and kind and knowing.

She looked down at her feet for a moment, then shrugged.

"I don't know. I can't tell him that I know it. He'd freak out and he has every right to, I mean I wouldn't be happy if anybody was looking me up on the internet." Willow quirked her eyebrows at that but remained silent and Buffy didn't notice. "All I can do it pretend I don't know anything and play along. Maybe now I can avoid the danger and we can get along the rest of the ride."

"You want to lie to him and think it'll make things better?" Tara asked. Although her words indicated it, she didn't sound judging. She never did.

"It's not lying. It's... not telling everything I know. You can't call that a lie, right?"

Willow and Tara both looked at the blonde and Buffy's gaze shifted between them.

"Oh don't look at me like that. You both know that I can't tell him." She jumped to her feet and threw her hands up in defeat.

"Than why have you asked for these information in the first place? When you won't tell him you know anyway?" Willow tilted her head and looked at her best friend with a questioning frown.

Buffy sighed. "I don't know." she shook her head. "I just.. don't know.. I mean, you should see him. The way he talks sometimes like nothing matters anymore, like he doesn't care. He's really lonely, no friends, no family. But in the next moment he's shouting at me, wants me to leave. That's why I can't tell him. He'll throw me out and my probation will be screwed."

"That's the only reason? Your probation? It's not that you might like him, is it?" the redhead had to hide the amused smile when Buffy's eyes widened in shock and she blushed all too visible.

"Like him? Why should I like a man with Rocky Mountain-issues who's a total wreck with no social life and a really weird attitude and mood swings and who has a totally stupid nickname? And have you seen the hair?" she rambled and threw up her hands to emphasise her point.

The two lovers had to stifle a giggle seeing Buffy like that. Tara buried her nose in the book again and Willow turned towards the computer again.

"Here is some other stuff about him. You want to read it here or shall I print it? Or are you totally interested?" Willow teased but Buffy didn't seem to get the hint.

"Printing will be okay. I'll take it home then. I have some reading to do plus I'm still grounded, remember?" she slipped into her jacket and waited for Willow to hand her a small pile of print-outs.  
"Thanks. See you guys tomorrow then?"

"Of course. And have fun with those." Willow smiled and shot a knowing glance at Tara out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh I will." Buffy replied sarcastically. "Thanks for the help."

"Research girl to the rescue. It's no prob."

"Bye, guys. See you tomorrow." With that the blonde closed the door behind her and left the two girls alone.

"She likes him." Willow said more to the screen in front of her nose than to her lover on the bed.

"Of course she does. Haven't you noticed? She was totally into all the hateable stuff about him but she never mentioned that he has to sit in a wheelchair. Like she didn't care. That could be a good thing."

Buffy kicked the doors shut with the heel of her boot, threw her purse on the chair in front of her dressing table and flopped down on the bed. She flipped through the pages Willow had given her and she couldn't tear her eyes from them.

On her way home she'd read some more articles on the accident, one had gone more into the unpleasant details than the last one. She'd shaken her head over that one and put the page aside.

Now she was reading one of the cd-reviews. The headlines were pretty promising. "Punk is back in the Nu-Rock world", "Punk's not dead" or "North London rocks California" were just a few of them.  
And the articles weren't bad either. They all talked about a great quality of song-writing and huge musical potential. There was even a concert-review including a picture of Spike – unmistakably marked by his bright blond hair – and four other guys up on stage.

Buffy looked at the picture for some time. Suddenly the song he had showed her was back in her mind, the guitar riffs and his low and somewhat sensual voice.  
And then it came to her. "The lyrics of the song. They were about her, about this woman in the pictures, they just had to be. It all fits together. The description of her."

Buffy's fingers darted over her lips. Why hadn't she figured it out earlier? Sometimes she was so stupid? Not seeing the woods in the middle of the trees. That's what had brought back all the emotions and the memories he had talked about.  
The blonde sighed heavily over the picture of him crying.

Reluctantly she went over to the next page. It was a print-out from a site called poetryslam.com Buffy had never heard of it, which was no wonder since she wasn't all too much into written words weather it was for college or for fun.

Why did the computer come up with stuff like that? Yeah, right. Spike had said that he was making his money with writing, poems and short stories. But this one must be one of those he didn't get paid for. Or it wouldn't appear on this internet site, right?

Buffy pulled her legs beneath her and settled back to read the print-out.

__

Wind

Leaves scattered over blue.  
Sky spreading over green.  
Hills rolling down in slopes.

Pick up papers, trash, leaves.  
Touch my face, my hair, my limbs.  
Pick up paces down the hill.  
Faster, longer steps carry me with you.

All I want is to run with you.  
I want to walk, run and stumble.  
I want to trip and roll down the hills.  
All I want is being able to fall again.

Tears stung in Buffy's eyes when she finished reading the poem.  
It wasn't the best poem she'd ever read and there wasn't much to compare but she knew what was behind this poem.

Anybody else who stumbled across it would click it away without a second thought but she knew the author. She didn't know him very well but what she knew was enough to understand the meaning of those few lines.

Buffy sniffed and tried to force the tears back when her door was flung open suddenly.

"Hey, big sis. Whatcha doing?" Dawn had a huge grin plastered on her face.

Buffy looked her in slight shock. Her heart was pounding from the sudden intervention. She swallowed the tears and tried to look as big-sister-like as she could manage.

"It's called knocking, Dawn." she grumbled but failed completely to impress her sister.

"What's wrong?" the younger girl asked, sensing Buffy's emotions all to well.

Although they were arguing most of the time like sisters should, sometimes Dawn was more grown up than Buffy was willing to admit.

"Nothing." she snapped. She didn't want to share right now. She didn't even know why she cried in the first place but she didn't want to dig into that hole any further.

"Yeah, right. So what the nothing that's ruining your make-up?" Dawn asked again and closed the door to Buffy's room behind her.

Buffy's hand rose to her face and her finger came away with a bit of black mascara. Great, her make-up had giving her away.

"It's really nothing." she shifted on the bed to make some more space for her little sister to sit down beside her.

"What's that?" Dawn grabbed the paper in Buffy's hand and studied it with a concerned frown. Buffy didn't answer right away letting her sister read the poem first.

"That's so sad. Who wrote it?"

Buffy sighed, reluctant to answer. "You remember the guy I hit? That's his."

"The one with the Billy Idol thing? Yeah, I remember."

Buffy smiled at the picture. She hadn't even thought about that although she was usually the one with the high score on pop-culture references.

"He wrote that?" Dawn asked after reading it again.

"Yeah."

"God, he seems depressed, huh?"

"That's so much of an understatement, believe me."

"Hm, my teacher in creative writing would love this. I bet I can learn something from him. Can I meet him?" Dawn grinned with excitement and it took Buffy a moment to shift gears for this new turn.

"What? No, you can't meet him. He's my probation-task. Community Service, remember? Plus, he's not a tourist attraction. What would that look like? 'Hi, this is my little sister, she wanted to see you.' Like he's some sort of ancient dinosaur bone." Buffy snorted and shook her head.

"Okay, then not. But maybe you could invite him over some time. Your birthday is coming up soon." With that Dawn rose and went to the door. "Oh, can you ask him where his ideas come from? Can you do that for me? To save me from failing." She gave her older sister some of her huge grins almost no one could resist.

"Maybe, I don't know. We don't talk that much. We'll see." Buffy shrugged, the thought already brought pictures of a pretty angry Spike into play.

"Thanks." And Dawn was gone.

"You're welcome." Buffy mumbled to herself, picking up the paper again.

Invite him over? To her birthday? Wasn't that a bit rushing into things. They didn't know each other that well to invite him over. That would be…  
He wasn't the most social person in the world and she bet her left arm that it would be a disaster having him in her home.  
No, she couldn't do that. Never.

part 9 Feeback  
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	10. Scar Tissue

Spinning The Wheel 09 – Scar Tissue

"Hi." Buffy smiled wryly as she entered Spike's living-room.

She found Spike sitting at the table in front of a bowl of cereal, a mug of steaming hot coffee and the local newspaper in his hands.

"Morning." he greeted her chewing and flipped over a page of the paper.

"Oh, if I'm… I don't want to bother you. I can come back later." She was ready to turn on her heels and leave the apartment again.

"Ehm, no. Stay. I'm just..." he gestured with spoon towards the bowl. "Sit down."

And so Buffy did. She flopped down on a chair, resting her hands in her lap.

"It's pretty late for a breakfast." she said to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I know. But I had bit of a busy night, had to finish a new short story and got a little got caught up in it." Spike washed down the cereal with a sip of his coffee. Then, he moved back to take the empty bowl into the kitchen, but Buffy lept to her feet.

"Let me do that." She picked up the bowl herself. She wanted to busy herself. She couldn't stand these silences. They always made her think she'd done something wrong.

Spike looked at her a little startled. What was she up to? Was she trying to make up for that incident last weekend? "Thanks." he said hesitantly after a few seconds.

Buffy poured some water into the bowl and put it down into the sink, letting it soak. "I read one of your poem." she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the oh so interesting patterns of cereal that floated in the water.

"So?" he leaned back in his chair, the mug in his hands, and watched her with surprised eyes.

"Yeah, yesterday. I was surfing the net for some information for a paper I had to do for college." she lied. She couldn't tell him that she'd look up information about him, about his accident. "And it just... came up. So I looked at it. Hope you don't mind."

"How could I? It's a free country, right?" he replied but a frown crept in his face. "Where did you find it?"

"Poetryslam.com."

"Oh bugger it. That old stuff?" he exclaimed and took another sip of coffee, shaking his head.

He remembered posting his stuff there about two years ago because he had nothing better to do. But that got him the contract that paid his rents now so he didn't complain. He just didn't expect that the site was still up and running and that they still hosted his stuff.

"Ehm… yeah. But... it was good. I liked it." Buffy leaned against the cupboard, facing him.

"What did you read?"

"_Wind_."

Spike fell back into silence his gaze dropping on the table.  
This was a turn of things he didn't expect at all. She had stepped into his private space again in a way she might not have meant to. She had read some of his most personal composition, his most private and intimate thoughts. And out of some irrational reason that bothered him more than anything.

"Can I ask you something?" Buffy asked after some moments of awkward silence.

He snapped out of his reverie and looked at her.  
"What?"

She hesitated with her question, the eye-contact had startled her a little. His eyes always had that effect on her when she was looking at him for too long. They made her mouth go dry and the breath hitch in her throat. "I was... just wondering... what's that poem about?"

"A dream," he replied immediately, taking another, almost nervous sip of coffee.

Buffy frowned at that, tilting her head to one side. She didn't know if she should push any further, asking more about it or if she should wait for him to give away a little bit more.

With a little sigh, Spike pushed back from the table, revealing his bare, scarred legs only half way covered by a pair of cut-off sweat-pants. He moved over to the couch and started folding his blanket.

"It's more of a wish than a dream." he added hesitantly. He didn't even know why he was telling her all this, but it felt right to do so.  
She wanted to know, was interested and since she had already read the poem there wasn't much more he could hide from her. "Ever since that accident, it's my… biggest wish just to stand up and run. Run with the wind. That's where the title comes from. I know it must sound foolish but…"

"It's not." Buffy cut him off.

Spike stopped in his tracks, the blanket in his outstretched arms, and looked at her a little bewildered. Why was she suddenly so insightful He never thought that she would understand his thoughts, that she would ask even more question about it but she didn't.

He saw it in her eyes and – he couldn't help it – it surprised him. A frown flickered over his face and he tilted his head but she smiled at him, if only a little.

Their eye contact held several seconds but before Buffy broke it and looked down at the kitchen counter.

"It's good to have dreams." she said seriously after collecting her thoughts once more. The surprised look on his face had taken her a little off guard. "They keep you going."

"Yeah." Spike's hands dropped into his lap. "They should. But when you're at the end of the rope there isn't much left to dream about."

He didn't face her, putting the blanket down in the couch, but Buffy could hear the sadness in his voice. A question lay on her tongue but she wasn't sure weather to ask it or not.

"Does that mean… you'll never walk again? I mean... sometimes it just needs recovery, right? I'm not a doctor, but..." her nervous voice trailed off and swallowed the rest of what she was about to say.

"No." Spike twisted his chair around and moved back towards the kitchen. He wasn't angry like Buffy had almost expected, he made a more of a sad and depressed expression.

Buffy approached him, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"In that accident... I was trapped in the car." he said. "I couldn't move my legs and when I woke up from the coma, I still couldn't."

"That's were you got the scars." It wasn't a question.

Spike nodded. "The doctor told me that almost every nerve and muscle in my legs were ripped and cut. They couldn't patch it up as much as they tried." He ran his hands over his knees and along the scars. "It's not the spinal cords like I had expected. So the information comes in but it doesn't get processed. It's like a keyboard without the a computer, you know? Any my legs don't support my weight any more, so..." He shrugged as casually as possible but Buffy couldn't see that the indifferent look on his face was only façade.

Suddenly, Buffy made a step forward and knelt down in front of him. "May I?" She nodded at his knees.  
'Buffy, what are you doing?' her inner voice asked, trying furiously to shake her awake from this insane action. But Buffy pushed the thought away.

"Sure, won't hurt." Spike shrugged, twisting his mouth in a casual smile.  
'Spike, what are you doing? Why are you letting her get that close, letting her touch you?' his inner voice was much louder but he ignored it, too.

Buffy raised her hand, placing her fingers carefully on his scared knees.  
First she expected him to twitch with reflex, but nothing happened, of course.  
She traced her fingers along the twisted scar, touching the soft vulnerable skin as if it could break any second.

"You really don't feel that?" she murmured.

Spike swallowed before he could answer. "I know that it is there, since I can see your hand but I can't actually feel it. It's like... when you sit back on your heels for too longs and your legs get numb."

Although he couldn't actually feel it he knew that her hand must feel horribly good on his skin. He couldn't remember when somebody had touched him that way. And when he had let somebody touch him. He stared at Buffy's delicate fingers with some kind of fascination he couldn't quite make out. "Just... without the prickling afterwards." His voice sounded hoarse and he had to clear his throat. She shouldn't realise what effect that gesture had on him. He could never explain.  
In this tiny moment she was closer to him than anybody else over the last three years had been. It was more intimate than he'd expected and if he'd known before he would have retreated from her.

"Actually, I have a horrid fascination with scars." Buffy sat back on her heels, pulling her hand away. And the second she did, Spike already missed her unfelt touch.

He blinked and rolled back a little. "That's kinda strange for a girl." he said, trying to focus on the blonde in front of him.

"Yeah, I don't know why. When I was young I was more of a rough and tumble kid and got some scars. And I got stabbed some months ago." Buffy rambled. She blushed a little, touching his knees had been a whole lot more intimate than she had wanted it to be and the tension grew thicker any minute.

"You... what? You got stabbed?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Yeah, I was walking home alone and got mugged. You see." Buffy rose to her feet, pulling up the hem of her blouse some inches, revealing a nasty scar on her stomach. It looked fresh but nicely healed.

Instinctively, Spike's hand darted out to touch the pink flesh but he pulled back a fragment of an inch before he touched her skin. "Looks bad." he wrinkled his nose in disgust, pulled up an eyebrow and looked up at her.

"And it did hurt like hell. Thank god, Riley found me. I would have bled to death if he hadn't brought me to the ER."

At the boy's name, Spike's hand dropped back into his lap. He saw how Buffy's blush grew a little more intense and she put her blouse back into place.

"Riley?" he asked, unsure if it was a little too personal to ask.

Buffy's gaze dropped to the floor and she chewed on her bottom lip. "Yeah, he's my… he was my boyfriend."

"Mhmh." Spike said, nodding. He couldn't deny the little flicker of jealousy that burned inside him. Although he couldn't fathom where that came from it was there. But how in the world could he think that a pretty little thing like Buffy had no boyfriend.

Wow... hold on... since when do you think she's pretty? Since when is jealousy involved in this?

"As I said, he was my boyfriend. One day he decided that I didn't love him the way he wanted me to and ran off to the army. And that's about it. No need to whine." Buffy shrugged but she felt the pang of pain in her heart the second she brought Riley into the mix.

They had been together for about a year and suddenly he went away. Woosh, and he was gone.

"If he thought so, he's a stupid wanker. That's what I think." Spike looked up at her, meeting her sad-clouded eyes and a thin smile spread over his lips.

"I don't have a real idea what a wanker is, but thanks." Buffy smiled back at him and his own smile widened a little when she gave a horrible impression of his accent.

"You're welcome." he nodded again, never breaking the eye contact.

They looked at each for what seemed like hours but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt good since Spike suddenly looked away.

"Ehm, would you mind if I'd take a shower, luv? For me it's still morning and..." his words trailed off.

"Oh... sure. I'll be gone anyway. I have to do some grocery shopping." Buffy picked up her purse and turned to leave. "Oh... I almost forgot... my little sister told me to ask where you get your inspirations for your poems?"

Spike looked at her, trying to comprehend. "Can you tell me exactly, how many people have read that poem?"

"Just me and her. She just grabbed it, I didn't mean to show her." Buffy held up her hands in defeat.

"Tell her to listen to the voice within." was all he said, his tone completely serious.

"Good, I'll tell her. Thanks. See you tomorrow then." she turned on her heels and left.

"You're welcome." he whispered after the front door clicked shut.

What had happened just now? Where they actually starting to get along?

part 10 Feeback  
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	11. Campfire Tales

Spinning the Wheel 10 - Campfire Tales

The smell of melted cheese drifted to her nose - cheese, mushrooms, pineapple, ham and pepperoni. It smelled like heaven although Buffy had a hell of a time juggling with the pizza box, her purse and the doorbell.

Finally she managed to ring and pushed the door open with her butt. The stairs weren't a real problem although she hated it when she couldn't see her feet. She had a slight tendency to trip and with the pizza… not a good idea.

The door to the apartment was open again. Buffy always wondering about that. Despite the fact that Spike hadn't any friends or other people around, he left the door open. About anybody could bust in and rob him or something. But that was his business.

"Anybody here?" Buffy called into the hallway and kicked the door shut with the heel of her boot. Standing on one leg she took the most of her balance away and she wavered. Her purse slipped from her shoulder into the crook of her elbow and gave the pizza box an extra amount of gravity.

"No food stains on my carpet, please." Out of nowhere a hand reached out to and grab the carton. Buffy found her balance back again.

"Not if I can avoid them." she said, a cheerful smile on her face. "Hi."

Spike looked up at her with a quizzical frown.

"I know, I'm a little late but we had extra rehearsal in theatre class today. I wanted to call but I don't have your number, so… but I brought you pizza. Hope that makes up for the delay." Her smile never wavered.

"Pizza?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah. Major make-up factor. Plus, I went by on my way here." she shrugged.

"Well, then." he moved back and over into the kitchen.

Buffy followed him, placing the carton on the table.

"Watch out for the papers, will you?" he called from the kitchen, taking out two plates from one of the cabinets.

"Ah… yeah." she pushed the box a little aside and started collecting the bunch of papers, filled in neat hand-writing. "Is that one of your short stories?" she asked, reading over the first few lines on the paper on top.

"Don't you read that." he put the plates on the table, his tone serious.

"Whups, sorry. Didn't mean to." Buffy quickly put the papers aside.

"Didn't mean to be rude." he cut in, his voice a little lighter now. "It's just... I don't like people to read stuff before it's finished. I don't feel very comfortable about it."

"Sure, understand that." Buffy smiled apologetically and lifted the lid of the pizza box.

"You sure the cook did actually try that combination?" Spike eyed the pizza doubtfully than shot the same glance up at her.

"That's actually my choice. I didn't know what you like so... I tried to cover all the possibilities."

Buffy looked a little disappointed. Was that really a good idea?

"No, it's okay. I eat almost everything. As long it hasn't more than four and no legs." he twisted his mouth in disgust but Buffy smiled at that.

"That's a good philosophy. Mind if I share?" she sat down at the table, grabbing a plate and took one of the pizza slices.

"Not at all."

Buffy greedily stuffed the slice into her mouth, chewing on it with an expression of pleasure on her face. "God, I'm so starved." she said munching.

"Don't they give you food at college?" Spike eyed her doubtfully, taking a slice of pizza himself, and inspected the topping.

"They do but that was aeons ago. Plus theatre class is so exhausting sometimes."

"What do you do?"

"Mostly we do the theory stuff. Like breathing and speaking techniques. We haven't got into the rehearsal yet. But our teacher thought we should be extra prepared for that." Buffy rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"Have you picked a play yet?" he asked, starting to eat himself. The delicate smell of the pizza making his stomach growl in protest.

"Yeah." Buffy swallowed before she spoke again. "That Sean Connery memorial thing." She waved her hand around and shrugged again.

"Huh?" Spike raised an eyebrow at her, stopping in his tracks to take a bite of pizza.

"This... Scottish thing."

"Macbeth?" he asked, a smile playing around his lips.

"Exactly, I keep forgetting that damn name. Although I have a part in it." Buffy shook her head in disgust about the thought of staying on stage with a bunch of people who had a lot more experience than her.

"What part?"

"That guy's wife. I didn't mean to, they just forced it onto me and I didn't have a choice."

Spike's smile widened. The horrid look on Buffy's face was priceless.

"You should do that more often, you know?" Buffy looked at him, cocking her head to one side. An amused look on her face.

"What?" Spike gave a little start, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Smiling." Buffy expression was totally serious and she locked eyes with him. "Suits you fine."

They looked at each for a while, the sincerity on her face never wavered. She really meant it, even more than she was giving away. Since they'd met she had never seen him smiling more than a split second and even than it had never touched his eyes. But this time as they were musing over everyday stuff it did and a tiny sparkle gleamed at the corner of his eyes.

Spike was the one to look away first. That honest look in Buffy's face was just too much for now. The little banter they had was actually more than he could bear. He'd thought about their meeting yesterday, the way she had touched him and that they were finally starting to get along. Yeah, it was like that although he had desperately tried to deny it. He couldn't let her that close, she couldn't invade his personal space like that. And now the compliments? That was just too much.

"I did that play back in England once." he tried to change the subject, paying more attention to his pizza than on the blonde in front of him who actually looked a little disappointed.

"You did?" Buffy asked, trying not to give away that she wasn't that glad about the change in subject. She had really meant that compliment but he didn't react to it the way she had expected. She just wanted to be nice and build some kind of connection but he pushed her away.

"Yeah, some year's ago. When I was still in school." he replied, taking a bite of pizza.

"So… you might help me with my text when we start rehearsing?" Buffy tried again, a hopeful smile plastered on her face.

Spike was glad he was still chewing on the pizza, so Buffy didn't realise that he hesitated longer than neccessary. He didn't know what to say. He could say yes. He still knew the play almost by heart since he loved doing it. But that would mean that they would have to hang around even more than they did now and he almost couldn't bear the time they spend with each other due to Buffy's probation. And he could say no. His arguments for that were a little rare. Actually, he couldn't say no. She would ask why and he would have no answer to that. He couldn't say that he couldn't stand people being that close to him and after what happened yesterday they were closer than he ever wanted them to be. She wouldn't understand that and he couldn't explain. He could lie to her but had always been a bad liar and she would know the second he spoke the words.

"I could do that." he said automatically, his subconscious betraying him.

"Great." Buffy said cheerfully. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." he replied, chewing.

They ate in silence for a while until Spike finally spoke again and Buffy jumped.

"You want something to drink?" he pulled back from the table and moved over into the kitchen.

"You got something fizzy?" Buffy asked back.

"I should." he opened the refrigerator door and peered inside, spotting a bottle of coke. "Coke's okay with you?"

"Sure."

He took it out along with a bottle of beer and a glass from one of the cabinets. Well, as far as you could call it a glass since it was plastic.

"You didn't say you got alcohol?" Buffy gave him a mocking pout.

"I can get you one." he said and placed the two bottles on the table.

"No, I'm just kidding. I'm not twenty-one yet plus me and alcohol... no way." she shook her head frantically.

"Well then..." Spike poured her a glass of coke and opened his beer, taking a cautious sip.

"So… you did some theatre in school?" Buffy asked carefully, getting back to a topic she thought wasn't too dangerous.

"Yeah, that was basically the only thing I could do." he replied with an indifferent shrug.

"Meaning?" Buffy frowned quizzically.

"Meaning... that I was a horribly bad student with no interest in nothing. So I focussed on the art stuff. And since Shakespear is the British equivalent of Elvis that's what we did." he shrugged again.

"Yeah." Buffy nodded, unsure what to say next. "But... with your writing.. couldn't that give you a little credit?"

"Nobody knew that I was writing and I wasn't doing much back then. I didn't want to spoil the image."

"What image?" she asked, taking a sip from her coke, the fizzy liquid prickling against her nose.

Spike put the bottle down on the table and plucked one of mushrooms from his pizza. He thought about how to put it best before answering.

"I was… more of an outcast back then. My parents died… in a car accident." The mushroom couldn't cover the bad taste of memory but he kept going. "So I grew up at my aunt's house with my cousin. They were all pretty uptight, you know? Following the rules, watching their manners and so on." He twisted his mouth in distaste. "Wasn't my style. Was kind of a protest thing. Plus I got into punk those days which they didn't like at all. Most of the time I was alone, even in school. Everybody thought I was nuts. So… if I had told anybody that I was writing poetry…" His words trailed off and he looked at Buffy with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Buffy nodded. "I see. And I understand that. I mean… there's no difference over here. Except that it's all about who is dating who and who wear's the most expensive clothes. I mean... look at me... we're so shallow." She smiled, trying to cheer him up a little.

His story had sounded so horribly sad. Again. He lost his parents in a car accident, too, must be in the family. And even then, he had been alone. How could anybody stand being alone most of the time?

"I don't think you're shallow." he said with an honest expression on his face. "I think you're smarter than most people I met."

Buffy didn't know what to say. She stared at him for a couple of seconds, trying to shift gears in her head. "Thanks." she said with a dull voice, her own tone startled her. "See, I can't even take a compliment." she tried to cover her confusion about his statement. He thought she was smart? Hm... that was something she hadn't expected to hear from his mouth after all the stuff that happened. "Plus, I shouldn't be driving a car." she added after a second's hesitation.

"Maybe you should think about that, yeah." A smile spread on Spike's face. After telling her about his past - even if it was just a fragment of it - he had thought that this might take a totally different turn. But it turned out fine. Yeah, they were getting along. And it felt good. "By the way... the judge mentioned another incident involving you and a car. What was that about?"

Buffy blushed and lowered her head for a moment. "That was about two years ago. My mom was gone and didn't know where she went. So I took Willow and our car and drove around town to look for her. I wasn't really... I didn't know how to drive actually, with the hand break and all that. And at one of the intersections... I had an accident. I wasn't looking at the traffic light cause I was so busy shifting gears and stuff. So a car crashed into me." Buffy shrugged when she finished.

"Anybody injured?"

"No, just a few scraped and bruises but nothing serious. So I got a reference in my file, that's what the judge mentioned. But it never went to court or anything. The driver of the other car was drunk so we agreed to pay each other's repairs."

"And did you find your mum?" Spike asked, taking the last slice of pizza from the box.

"Yeah." Buffy shook with disgust and her already pink cheeks turned crimson. "I found her... at the Bronze... making out with Giles." she almost spat the words and drank a hasty gulp of coke to wash away the bad taste.

"That guy from the gift shop?"

"One in the same. They thought they could hit up on the good old times and smoked some stuff. I really don't want to know what. And when I found them they were all smooching and making moon eyes."

"What did your dad say to that? Guess he was royally pissed."

Buffy's head sank and she looked down at her empty plate for a moment. "Guess he wasn't." she said quietly. "They got divorced almost six year's ago."

"I'm sorry." Spike replied simply, trying to look Buffy in the face but the blonde kept her head down.

"Don't be." After a second's hesitation she looked up at him. "It's not that bad. I mean... he cheated on her and wasn't really there so there wasn't a big change when they got divorced. And now he's off to France or whatever country with his secretary." A wry smile touched Buffy's lips and she tried to shrug casually but failed. It was still hard to talk about it. When she did she felt the loss again that had paralysed her in the first weeks after her dad moved out.

The following silence was weighing heavy on both of them. Neither knew what to say. That topic was over and done with and there wasn't much they could talk about. Buffy stared down at her hands. She hadn't meant to go that much into her personal stuff but it was only fair. He had told her about his past, so she had to share, too.

Spike looked at her out of the corner of his eyes as he took another sip from his beer. Too much time had passed since he'd talked to someone like that. It was just everyday stuff, a little personal note here and there and that was about it but it felt good. Really good. Although the silence became thicker and more unpleasant with every passing second it wasn't too awkward. Talking to Buffy felt nice and almost comfortable. What did this girl do to him? Why was he opening up to her like that?

"Can I ask you something?" Buffy asked suddenly and Spike flinch in surprise.

"What?"

"My... ehm... my birthday is next Saturday and I'm having a little party over at my house. Nothing big, just my mother and my sister and some friends. And I was... wondering… if..." her words trailed off. She couldn't continue, she didn't even know why she wanted to ask it in the first place. She had sworn to herself that she would never ever invite him and now she was right in the middle of it.

"You want me to come?" he raised an eyebrow at her in disbelieve. What was that about now? He didn't understand a thing. Okay, so they were getting along but he had never expected to be named in one sentence with her family and friends. Maybe it was just politeness but the fact itself was surprising enough.

"Yeah... if you'd like. Plus... my sister wants to talk to you about your poems. Think she's a fan." Buffy was glad she could squeeze Dawn in this conversation. That would make it more into politeness than an honest invitation. She could always blame it on her if things went wrong.

"You got a porch?" Spike asked and Buffy looked at him, totally oblivious to what he was talking about.

As an answer he spread his hand in a 'look at me'-fashion and eyed her questioningly.

"Oh... yeah. I always forget that. Yeah, we do."

"So that might be a little complicated. And since I don't assume you're making a barbecue in your backyard…"

Buffy nodded. He was right and she was probably the most stupid girl on the planet. He couldn't get into her house. There were three steps in the front and four in the back. Why hadn't she thought about it in the first place? And who said that she was smart?

"Sorry to disappoint. But thanks for the invite." he said when Buffy didn't reply.

"You're welcome." Buffy smiled thinly.

On the one hand she was glad that he couldn't come. That would be too... what? It would be weird to have him in her house. He was her probation-task, that was what she had told Dawn when she had brought up the idea in the first place. They were far from being friends, they were just getting along a whole lot better than a couple of days before but that wasn't a reason to invite him to her birthday.

But on the other hand she was a little bit sad. This evening was going great, she hadn't tapped into any hidden secret memories. They were just talking like people who did like each other. It would've been nice.

Confused by her own thoughts Buffy shook her head. "I think... I should go. It's late and I have some studying to do." She rose and slipped into her jacket a little too hasty.

"Yeah. I don't want to keep you from anything."

"I'll swing by tomorrow then? I promise I won't be that late."

"No problem. I'm always here, so…"

"Alright." Buffy went to the hall and turned around again. "Goodnight."

"Buffy?" Spike called after her when she already opened the door.

"Hm?"

"Thanks... for the evening." he said quietly, not able to look her in the eyes. But he just had to say it before she went away again. He really enjoyed it and she should know it.

"You're welcome." He could hear the smile in her voice but he didn't raise his head before he heard the front door clicking shut.

Buffy stood on the sidewalk in front of the house and looked up at the apartment. The windows facing the street were dark but she knew it was up there.

What happened tonight?

They had talked over a pizza, talked about their pasts, their families and it hadn't ended in pain and tears. Since Buffy had read the article and the poem she understood a little bit more about what he was up to, about the way he reacted, even she knew it was just a fragment of what caused all the pain she'd seen in his eyes the other day at the Espresso Pump. There was more behind that but it wasn't her task to ask, it wasn't her business.

But as things went tonight she thought that her probation wouldn't be as bad as she had thought in the first place.

part 11 Feeback  
back 


	12. Shopping Guy

Spinning the Wheel 11 - Shoping Guy

This was ridiculous. No… more than that. It was insane. A ridiculous insanity. But still he was doing it.  
He was here at the Sunnydale Mall - as far as this rather small establishment could be considered a mall compared to the standard-size of the shopping domes - and made his way through the pre-weekend crowds.

Being with so many people at once was hell on earth. He had the constant feeling of being watched. Although he knew probably not even half the people who's way he crossed noticed him. He was out of their sight and they were occupied with their own business.  
But those who shot an open glance at him were all too visible. When they were sitting on one of the various benches or in the cafés they had a better view and he knew that they were looking.

Spike gritted his teeth, setting his jaw, and continued on his way. He didn't know what he was looking for, he just came here to... yeah, to do what exactly? To buy a present for Buffy.  
God, this was so stupid. Why was he even thinking about it although he had already told her that he wouldn't come? He didn't know or didn't want to know. There was something nagging in the back of his mind that told him the real reason why he was here, why he wanted to buy her something. But he constantly tried to ignore that fact, that he actually started liking her. It wasn't much, just a small flicker of sympathy he'd developed since he had let her touch him, let her get close.

Suddenly, Spike stopped dead in his tracks, tilted his head to one side and approached the broad window of a shoe-shop. It wasn't the rather expensive stuff laid out in the window. It was the small blonde girl sitting in one of the chairs, one of those strapy little things in her hand one could possibly never walk on without breaking an ankle.

Beside her was the redhead he'd seen in court and at the shelves close by stood another young woman with long light brown hair and a pleasant smile on her face.

The redhead... what was her name? Something like a tree... Willow... was saying something to the blonde and she smiled one of those bright sunshiny smiles that seemed to cheer up everyone.

Spike blinked. What was he doing here? He sat there watching Buffy through a shop window as if he was some crazed stalker.  
But still… he found it had some sort of fascination to it. Seeing her and her friends in an ordinary situation shopping, and he couldn't draw his eyes from her.

Yeah… he did like her. In some weird way.  
It wasn't supposed to be like that. You don't start liking the person who nearly killed you, who keeps wading in your personal space and who makes you smile out of no particular reason.

"Buffy?" Willow asked, waving a hand in front of her friend's eyes.

Buffy flinched and sat upright again after she'd fastened the tiny strap around her ankle. "What?"

"That's what I was going to ask. You were pretty zoned like you haven't been listening to the epic story I was telling you just now." the look on Willow's face told the blonde that her friend wasn't serious. "What's wrong? Something eye-catchy?"

"Huh? No, I was just... I just though I saw someone."

"Well... that's quite usual when you're in public. Unless you're blind, that is." Willow shrugged but Buffy shot her an annoyed glance.

"I know, Willow. I thought… I thought it was Spike." she shook her head as if she was talking to herself about something totally ridiculous.

"You sure? After what you told us he's doesn't seem to be the shoppy-kind-of-guy." Tara said, taking a seat opposite the other two girls.

"Yeah, he isn't. Guess is wasn't him then." Buffy shrugged, stood and made some careful steps down the aisle, trying her upcoming new shoes.

Thank the lord. He almost got caught watching her though that window. When Spike saw her bending down and turning her head towards the window he'd made his way away from the window as fast as possible.

The last thing he needed was her catching him looking at her.  
What would she think of him? That he was completely going around the bend already? In her twisted way of thinking she's possibly assume that he was going to kill her the next time she showed up at his place like in those stupid teen horror flics he'd watched in the last three years during his long and dreary evenings at home.

His thoughts drifted back to that evening when Buffy had come up with a weird arrangement of pizza and they had just talked. Nothing more but nothing less, too. It had felt more than nice to have somebody around to talk to.

He shook out of his reverie and continued his way to one those slightly trashy jewellery shops.  
God... this was so stupid, he scolded himself, but here he was and he had to go through with it.

"God... this is so needed." Buffy slurped from her iced caramel macchiato and plopped down on one of the benches. "Caffeine gets an exhausted Buffy up and running in no time. You'll see."

"What else is on your list?" Willow and Tara sat down beside they're friend and the redhead looked over her friends shoulder to look at the small paper the blonde had produced from her purse.

"Ehm... let's see. I need some flippy decorations. Dawn loves them, so I buy them to get away from a total decoration disaster."

"Shouldn't be that hard, I guess."

"Nah. I just need a little recovery and than I'm up to another round." Buffy sighed and took another sip from her drink.

Spike juggled the little package in his lap. He just wanted to get out of this place, away from all those people. Maybe he was paranoid but this was just too much. He wasn't used to so many people and the sweat started accumulating on his temples.

And it did even more when he saw Buffy and her friends sitting on one of the benches, drinking something in the coffee-family and chatting over something.  
He had tried to avoid exactly this situation but now there was no place to hide. God, he was acting like a total idiot.

"Hey." he heard Buffy's voice and rolled his eyes.

When he looked up at her, he saw the blonde approaching him. Quickly, he slipped the package underneath his jacket out of her view. "Hey." he greeted her with a little less enthusiasm.

"I didn't expect you here of all places." Buffy beamed at him. But inside she was frowning. When he was here, was it possible that she had actually seen him through the window before? But why would he watch her? That was ridiculous.

"Yeah, I'm just... I just had to get out a little." he lied.

The frown on Buffy's mental forehead deepened. He wanted to get out? In a mall? Yeah... right.  
"Mhmh." she made instead and nodded.

God, she hated this situation. Why did she go over to him? This was one of those conversations you actually didn't want to have but you wanted to be polite and say something. But now, neither of them knew what to say.

"You know..." Buffy began, the awkward silence thickening between them. "I think I should go back to my friends." She pointed back towards Willow and Tara who desperate tried not to look at the couple. "I... have some shopping to do. With the party coming up and all."

"Yeah... right." Spike nodded. "Go on then."

"Okay. See you." With that she smiled one last time, turned on her heels and went back to her friends.

This was probably one of the weirdest conversation they ever had, Spike thought and watched the blonde motioning her friends to rise and continue their shopping tour. Both didn't know how to deal with it and it just felt awkward.

He shook his head over the little small talk and made his way through the crowd back home.

"What did he say?" Willow chirped when they were far enough away.

"Wow. What's all the excitement about?" Buffy asked and looked at her friend with confused eyes.

"Nothing. We're just curious."

"It was nothing, okay? I just said hi, so did he. End of the story." she shrugged, ignoring the meaningful glance Tara shot at her girlfriend.

Something was nagging in the back of her mind. This conversation... it just didn't seem real.  
He had to get out? That was a lie. For sure it was.  
About a week ago he had told her that he wasn't good with people, didn't like to be around them and now he was in a mall of all places. He was up to something, she just didn't know what it was.


	13. Happy Birthday

Spinning the Wheel 12 - Happy Birthday

Buffy was happy. Simple as that.  
The whole day she was jumping for joy. It was her birthday, she was turning twenty-one and now her life began. She could go into clubs beside the Bronze, she could drink, she was officially grown-up. Could one be even more happy?

Thank god it was a Saturday.  
So she could sleep a little longer than usual and didn't have to worry about college or any other assignments. Her mother had made her a breakfast from heaven including cereals and pancakes with a variety of syrups.  
Afterwards she'd taken a really long shower while Dawn and her mother had made the last grocery shopping for the party tonight.

Well, party wasn't the right word. She just invited some friends over. Willow and Tara, Xander and Anya, Giles for the joy of her mother and since those friends were human beings who needed to eat, Joyce had declared it her job to prepare the dinner.

Willow and Tara had arrived first. The redhead had hugged her best friend half to death while Tara had given her the lighter version but an equally cheerful smile.  
Giles had made his entrance in an all to British fashion.  
Although it was obvious that he liked the blonde and the blonde's mother much more, he didn't really know how to handle the situation. His good manners fought an open fight on his face as he decided weather to hug Buffy or just shake her hand.

Buffy had made the decision for him when the situation started to get comical and she pulled him into a hug.

As expected Anya and Xander were the last to come and they did with one of there not so private conversation, discussing if it was appropriate to go earlier to have lot more sex at home. Buffy smiled kindly at that and secretly rolled her eyes when Anya have her a strong, brisk hand shake, good friends be damned. But Xander - the nice and cuddly guy that he was - made up for it and hugged his friend tightly.

Now they were all in the living-room. Joyce had brought up a heaven of a dinner including all of Buffy's favourites. The presents had been unwrapped with greedy fingers. Despite her age, when it came to presents Buffy was still the little kid. But nobody really cared about it. There was a self-made picture frame by Dawn, decorated with sea shells, a bright sunshiny summer dress from Willow and Tara. She had been really surprise about that. When they had been shopping a couple of weeks ago she had seen it in a shop and had mused over it for some time but then decided that she didn't have the money to afford it. And from Xander and Anya was a small bright blue lava lamp that bubbled happily on the coffee table.  
Giles had given her an envelope with a gift card of his own shop. He didn't know what she liked, so she should decide on her own. It was simple but since Buffy loved the little shop she was more than grateful.

When the cake was out on the table, the phone rang. Buffy leapt to her feet, almost dropping her fork and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she chirped happily.

"Would you mind coming out on the porch?" a voice answered that Buffy didn't recognise.

"Who's there?" she asked a little confused and her mother was looking at her with a concerned frown. There were enough weirdos out there and you could never knew who got your number.

"It's me."

Aha, now I know, Buffy thought sarcastically and rolled her eyes at that. "Who's me?"

There was a sigh on the other end and a moment of silence. "Spike."

Buffy could've slapped her forehead. "Oh hi. I didn't recognise your voice. What do you want?"

Another sigh. "You to come out on the porch. I can't come in and I don't fancy throwing stones at your window."

"Yeah, right. I'm there in a sec." She replaced the receiver and headed for the door.

"Who was that?" Joyce asked.

"Spike. He's out there and wants me to come out." At her words Xander leapt up from the couch and turned towards the window. "Xand, if I see you poking your nose through the curtains, I'll burn the house down from where I stand." she threatened and pointed her index finger at her friend.

With that, she opened the front door and closed it behind her.

Spike sat there a couple of feet from the porch and slipped the cell phone into the pocket of his worn leather jacket.  
Underneath he wore and dark blue shirt that matched his eyes and made them sparkle a little.

"Hey." Buffy smiled brightly and went down the steps.

"Hi." Spike avoided her gaze but glanced up at her from under hooded eyes. It was such a stupid idea to come here. What was he aiming at with this?

"Thought you didn't want to come."

"I said I couldn't. Not that I wouldn't." A smirk crept on his lips and he tried to cover the hint of nervousness.

There was a moment of silence as Buffy watched him.  
He looked good today, with the blue shirt and the lopsided smiled. It seemed at if he wasn't as depressed and brooding as usual.

"It's nice to have you here." Again, she beamed at him.

"I... ehm.. I have something for you." He lowered his head again, hiding the slight blush in his cheeks.

Buffy's eyes widened. She didn't even expect him to come here and now he had a present? Was this Bizarro World and had everything gone wonky?

"It's not much but..." he produced the small package from underneath his jacket and twisted and turned it in his hands, his nervousness now all too visible. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Why was he so god damn nervous? "I just thought... and if you don't like it... you can take it back... it's… here." He thrust his hand forward to her.

Buffy flinched back in a slight shock but then she took the package from his hand. She shot him a last, surprised glance before she undid the red ribbon and opened the lid.

Her eyes widened even more as they fell upon a thin silver necklace with a silver pendant in the form of a rose petal. Her fingers traced the smooth material.

"God, Spike… that's…" her words trailed off for a second. "That wasn't necessary, really. I can't take this."

"As I said... you can still take it back... if... if you don't like it." His blush became a little deeper. What the hell was wrong with him? He never reacted in such a way, why now? It wasn't as if he was out on a date. "I didn't know what you like so… I just picked something. But if you want something different… "

"I love it." Buffy cut off his nervous rambling and looked him right in the face, trying to reassure him.

Spike looked at her in surprise. Their eyes met for a second and his fear vanished.

"Really?" he asked, his voice shaking a little.

"Yeah, it's beautiful." She looked down at the necklace and then back up at him. "Thank you."

Buffy made a step forward, leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. When she straightened again, Spike looked at her totally startled. He had to swallow hard before he could talk again.

"You're welcome." His voice was shaking even more. What did she do to him just now? What was that supposed to be?

Buffy sat down on the front steps and took the necklace from the box, letting it dangle from her fingers. She fastened it around her neck and looked expectantly up at Spike.

"You look... " he hesitated for a moment." You look beautiful." was all he could manage and for an endless second he drank in the sight of her. The knee-long black skirt with the uneven lacy hem and the crisp white blouse, her long blond curls fell loosely around her shoulders. And now with the necklace trailing down into her cleavage she looked just…

Spike blinked. Where did these thoughts come from? He wasn't supposed to think like that, was he?

"Spike?" Buffy asked, waving a hand in front of his eyes. It felt pretty awkward to have him looking at her that way.

"Huh?" he snapped out of his thoughts and focused on her again.

"I said that must have cost a fortune."

"I have to work harder on my short stories for the next couple of month but... I can handle it." he tried to cover the rush of nervousness and insecurity with a wry smile. This situation got a little out of hand.

"Great. I mean... I don't want you to spend so much money on the person who kinda brought you here." Buffy lowered her head a little embarressed and slid her fingers over the necklace again.

"Beg pardon? I can't quite follow you. It's your birthday, right? That's why I'm here." Spike replied a little confused.

"No, I mean... you wouldn't be here if..." she hesitated, then looked back up. "Have I ever apologised… for the accident?"  
She didn't know why she was bringing it up just now. Maybe she was feeling a little guilty. He had bought her this apparently pretty expensive gift only because she was too stupid to keep her eyes on the street while she was driving.

"No, but... you don't need to. It's okay." Now it was his turn to assure her.

"No, it's not. I should have done that days ago." she locked her eyes with his. Again, she was startled by their intensity. Despite Spike's usual depressed appearance they seemed to have a life on their own. They were like a mirror to something deeper, something hidden that she couldn't quite fathom. "I'm really sorry."

A slow smile crept on his lips, lighting up his face a little. "It's okay. All forgotten. Plus... it was kinda my fault, too. I should have watched out a little more."

They sat their in silence for a while, facing each other. It was nice just to sit there without an uncomfortable tension between them. It was as if saying sorry had undid a knot they didn't know was there. It was just a polite gesture but it had released some pressure nonetheless.

But suddenly, a sad shadow clouded Spike's features and he broke the eye contact.

"I... ehm.. I have filled out this form for you." he reached inside his jacket, took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her.

Buffy looked at it with a frown.

"I added up the time and ended up with twenty-two hours and more or less twenty minutes. So I guess... your probation is done." Although he tried to hide it, a hint of disappointment was still visible on his face.

"Seems like, yeah. I didn't realise that our time was up." She folded the paper and again, tapping it against her fingers a little nervously.

Yeah, she was disappointed. She couldn't hide it either.  
It wasn't that they were the best friends the world had ever seen but their relationship had been better the last week, they were getting along well. For the last two weeks they had seen each other almost every days and although it had just been some hours Buffy would miss this routine.

Spike didn't know what to say.  
Well, he did in fact but he didn't know how to get started. The question was itching on his tongue but he just couldn't say the words. He would make a total fool out of himself. He would humiliate himself in front of her and in front of that guy peeking through the window. It wasn't something he actually liked to ask but he knew that if he didn't he would feel even more miserable.

"Buffy?"

"Hmm?" the blonde snapped out of her thoughts during which she'd tapped the paper repeatedly against her fingers.

"Can... can I ask you something?" God… this was so damn hard… simple words all together but so hard to bring out that it almost hurt.

"Sure." Buffy looked at him expectantly but nothing came. She saw that something was nagging at him. He wanted to get something out but he somehow didn't dare to.

"I... I know that... your probation is over now but... I was... going to ask you if…" He broke off. He just couldn't do it.

Almost a minute passed in silence. This was like pulling teeth, Buffy thought. She had to do something against it, to get him going so he spat out what was on his mind but she didn't want to be too pushy.  
After another minute she said "Spike? What's up? If you want to ask something, go ahead. I don't have any dark pasts or secret identities." Yeah, right, Buffy. That's gonna make him talk like a waterfall. You have a way with people... you really do.

"I know." he said abruptly, still avoiding her face. If he wasn't going to asking ask her now, he'd never would do it. "I... I was going to..." he paused again, re-collecting his thoughts. "I told you that... I don't have much company. None, to be exact. But... when you.. were around... it was nice to... just to talk to someone." God, he was such a stammering idiot. It was shame. "It felt good to... have someone around again. So I... was going to ask you... if you would… only if you like... if you would come around again?"  
Slowly, oh so slowly he raised his head to look into Buffy's slightly surprised face.

Fear.  
When Buffy's eyes met his when he looked up at her all she saw was fear and that startled her more than anything.  
He was afraid asking her if she would come over again although she didn't need to anymore.  
He was afraid that she might reject him.  
And suddenly she truly understood his words. That he wanted her company, wanted her to be there, wanted to talk to her. He didn't want to be alone anymore after he had tasted the pleasures of having somebody around. And now he was afraid that she might say no and leave him alone again, leave him dwelling in the shadows of loneliness.

She remembered the first day she'd been in his apartment, the drawn curtains, the darkness. That was only two weeks ago but he had changed, even in that short period of time. He was still a depressed wreck, that was for sure, but there were small changes all around.  
He talked and smiled more often, everything seemed a littler lighter around him as if he had started glowing from a little light bulb deep within. It was still dim but it was on.  
And if she would say no now… it would be dark again. She'd be the one to turn that light off.

Spike gave a sound somewhere between a sigh and a snort and shook his head in defeat. "God, I'm so stupid. I shouldn't have ask asked that. I'm sorry. I should've known. I'm such an idiot."

"No." Buffy blurted, holding out her hand to stop him from moving away. There was another moment of silence until she spoke again. "I don't have time on Monday. Tuesday's okay with you?"  
She beamed at him. She didn't want to give the impression that she would reject him, she was just too confused for a moment to answer.

Hope flashed up in his eyes as if somebody had switched on the spotlights in a football stadium and a smile crept on his lips, making his eyes sparkle a little more. "Thank you."

He tried hard not to give away the whole amount of relieve he felt in that second. He had already given up all hope the moment he has (had) asked her and now that she did say yes… he couldn't remember being that happy for a long time. But he didn't want to make a fool out of himself by showing her what it really meant to him.

Instead, he reached into the pocket of his pants, drawing out something silver, Buffy couldn't see it clearly at first as he held it out for her.

"Here. So you don't have to ring. I should be home then."

It was a key. A key to his apartment dangling from the small silver key-chain in the form of an electrical guitar she'd seen earlier when she'd forgotten to put his keys back.

Hesitantly she took the key from his hands, her fingers lingering a moment too long on his until he practically jerked his hand away.

"Thanks." she said with a little blush in her cheeks. She couldn't deny the tiny tingling feeling that ran along her skin when they'd touched.

"I... ehm... I should go now. You have party going on in there and I don't want to keep you away."

"No, it's okay. We're almost through the program anyway…" Buffy tried to assure him.

"No... I... it's okay. I'm not the party guy, so..." he nodded, confirming his own words. Although it was true there was a little pang of ... of what? Jealousy maybe. Again, he was left alone outside, he couldn't come inside. Yes, he hated being stared at but being left alone here wasn't much better either.

"Okay, your choice." Buffy shrugged a little disappointed. It would've been nice to have him at her house although it would cause many questions and uneasy looks.

"See you on Tuesday then?"

"I'll swing by." Buffy stood and went up the stair to the front door.

"So long." Spike turned around and made his way to the sidewalk, but turned around again. "Happy birthday. And say hi to the whelp who's peeking through that window" He shot her a lopsided grin and finally left the property.

Buffy watched him go, a smile on her own face.  
This birthday was taking a turn she hadn't expected. Spike showing up and giving her such a beautiful present, the whole conversation. That look on his face and when he'd given her the key.   
He must have made it for her, expecting that she would accept and remain visiting him. God, what if she'd said no?

But there was more to the key. It wasn't only so that she didn't need to ring every time. She didn't even know if he was aware of that but it meant something more.  
He was letting her in. Well, in his apartment for one thing but also in a metaphorical sense. He was letting her into his life to some degree and that meant more to Buffy than she had given away.

With a sigh, she let herself into the house again. She was really up for some cake now and she had to kill Xander.


	14. When Shall We Meet Again

Spinning the Wheel 13 - When shall we meet again

"Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be; what thou art promis'd,: yet do I fear thy nature, It is too full o' th' milk of humane kindness; to catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great… wouldst be what?" Buffy exclaimed over dramatically and plopped down on the couch, flinging her textbook on the coffee table.

Spike had his troubles to save his mug of coffee from the flying literature.

"Why does this have to be so… British?" she sighed and draped one arm over her eyes.

"Hey. No bad word about the Mother Country." he replied with mock anger, looking at the exhausted blond in front of him.

"Sorry. It's just…" she shook her head unable to express her mood properly. "I can't get this straight. This language is just... too complicated. I can't do this."

"If I can, you can, too. It's not that difficult."

"Yeah, maybe it goes with the mother milk, what do I know."

"Have you ever looked up the word 'prejudice'?" he shot back.

"I know, I know. You know what I mean." she squinted at him from under her arm and saw him smirking at her. "Are you making fun of me?" she asked.

"Maybe." the smirk seemed plastered on his face.

"Oh thank you. I thought you'd be a little supportive. Now you're making fun of me. That's the kinda guy I need." she rolled her eyes at him and pouted.

"I'm not making fun of you, okay? You just keep saying that you can't do it until you actually fail." he gave her an honest look. "Plus you faking a British accent is just priceless." he shrugged innocently.

Buffy sighed again but picked up her textbook again and looked over the lines she just read. This was hell. She should have never gotten into this whole drama mess. She would stand on stage not being able to say a word and everybody would be laughing at her. She would make a total fool out of herself if she didn't quit this class.

"I'll go and give the coffee machine another go. Want one, too?" Spike placed his mug in his lap and moved back to twist around and continue into the kitchen.

"If you got milk I'm on it." Buffy answered, her nose still in her text.

"Sure." he said from the kitchen. Soon, the coffee machine was sent into action and the bitter smell of the brew filled the room. As the coffee bubbled up into the pot, he watched her from behind the counter.

He remembered sitting here and waiting for the tea water to boil. Now it was the same situation but the conditions had changed a bit.  
Buffy wasn't on duty with her probation anymore. She was here because he had asked her to, because she wanted it. Spike couldn't remember when he had somebody here because he had asked for it. It was too long ago. But now she was here. And it felt nice, just like he'd said the other day.  
It was nice to have somebody around to talk to even if it was just the casual small-talk kind of thing. Buffy had stopped asked annoying questions for sometime, that was a bonus. It almost felt as if they were some sort of friends. Not the close buddy kind of friends who had sleepovers or movie nights every Tuesday but they were getting along.  
They felt comfortable in each other's presence and Spike felt his mood lighten a little bit with every day.

"You dead in there?" he heard Buffy's voice and snapped out of his thoughts.

"Nope, alive and kicking. More or less" he said, a little weary if she might have seen him staring at her.

"Great, cause I'm a little dehydrating in here."

"Be there in a minute."

They sipped their coffee in silence. Buffy was flipped through the pages of her textbook, trying to learn her lines.

"I will definitely screw this thing." she exclaimed after a while causing Spike to jump at her sudden words and almost spill his coffee.

"What?"

"The play. I won't do it. Next time I have class I'll go to the professor and tell him that I'm out." she shook her head with her eyes focussed on the text.

"Why's that now?"

"I don't know. It's... I look at these lines and don't get them. I could stare at this book for ten hours straight and I won't understand a single word. I can never go up on stage."

"Yes, you will." he said with a resolved look on his face. Buffy knew that look from Willow. She could be a stubborn bitch from hell if she wanted to. But this was the first time she saw it on Spike.  
She looked at him with surprised eyes until he continued. "You can do this. Believe me. You just have to open up for it, that's all. When you continue saying 'oh I can't do that' then you won't. You have to believe in yourself."

Buffy stared at him for a second then she exploded into one syllable. "Wow." She gave an impressed frown. "That was... convincing."

"Neat, huh? That's what my teacher told me back then. I was nervous as hell, too. But he used much more words for it." The resolved look transformed into an assuring smile.

Buffy sighed. "So… I might not quit. But when I suck it's your fault."

He held up his hands in defeat. "Blame all on me."

"Thanks." Buffy smiled back at him and nodded slightly. There was a moment of silence until she continued. "Did you do any other plays in school?" Why exactly was she asking that? To pass this awkward moment for one thing but she just couldn't imagine Spike up on stage in that play. She'd seen that guy from college that was supposed to be her partner and when she had tried to replace the image, she just couldn't.

"No, one and only. Was in my senior year. Plus that one almost risked my graduation. If I'd done another one, I wouldn't have made it."

"You put much effort in it, huh?"

"Yeah, went through the lines every free minute. That's why I still know 'em by heart.

"Was about a girl, wasn't it?" Buffy, why can't you just shut up? Why do you have to ask these questions?

"How did you figure?" Spike looked at her, a curious and slightly confused frown on his face.

Buffy was startled for a moment that he actually replied to that. She had expected him to be all get-the-hell-out-of-apartment again. "Ehm... I just… it was like that back at our high school. The guys just got into theatre or art class when they were either overly talented and that was rare. Or they wanted to get into a girl's pants." she explained frankly, not sure if she went too far again.

Spike was quiet for a moment, pondering the thought of what to tell her and what to keep unsaid. Actually, he didn't want to share too much of his private life, especially the not so bright part back then. With a little sigh, he finally answered. "Yeah, was about a girl."

"Did it work?" Buffy almost blurted. Where did that sudden interest come from? Maybe it was the surprise that made her ask further questions.

"If you consider being humiliated in front of the entire school as 'working' than yeah. If you think that we lived happily ever after, no it didn't." Hm... that wasn't hard to tell. He had thought there would be much more pain and heartache involved when he thought about weither to say it or not.

"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"No... it's... it's okay. That's over and done with. Was year's ago." he gave her another assuring smile.

Yeah... right... you're over and done with it, his inner voice told with a mocking tone. You'll never get over that. Never. The words will stay stuck in your head until the day you die and even then you'll hear them. 'You're beneath me.' That's what she'd said, right there at the premiere party of the play for everybody to hear. And wasn't she right?

"…what you mean."

"What?" Spike snapped out of his thoughts, blinked and looked up at the blonde again. "Sorry, I was..."

"I said that I know what you mean. With the over and done with part. I was like that, too."

"You were? What happened?"

"The year we moved here..." Buffy hesitated for a moment but she felt the urge to tell him. He had told her something, now it was her turn. "Was my first year, here. I had a crush on this guy. Owen. The all-American darling kind of guy, just to cover the shallow part of me. I was totally into him, I even started reading Emily Dickens for him." She twisted her mouth in distaste and rolled her eyes.

"Did it work?" he mirrored her own words.

"Not really. We were out on a date once, but he was... he actually was more weird than I had expected after he showed up at the library to ask for a book. So we went out to the Bronze and when he took me home, he wanted to take the shortcut through the cemetery. He was all into the crazy stuff, like wanting to break into the morgue and stuff like that. So… I broke up with him."

"Sounds bad. But still... I got you beat." a slight smirk played around his lips, trying to cover the bitter taste of his own memory.

"Yeah, can't catch up with you on that one." she mirror his smile, then her gaze dropped down at her watch. "Oh... gosh. I have to go." She scrambled to her feet, stuffing the textbook into her purse.

"Why's that now?" Spike's mood sank with a flash of disappointment.

"I gotta pick up Dawn at her friend's house. My mom will kill me if I'm late."

"Oh... okay then." he felt slightly relieved to hear that, he just couldn't fathom why.

He followed Buffy as she walked to the door. When the blonde suddenly whipped around, he gave a start.

"You know what?" she blurted.

Instead of an answer, he shot her an expectant look.

"My... ehm... my birthday was a little wonky with Xander peeking through the window and all…plus… I wanted to thank you for the necklace again. So... I ... ehm… I wanted to ask you out."

"You do what?" He just couldn't keep the words in. Through his surprise, they found a way out.

"I wanted to ask you out... to dinner... my bill... Friday night." Oh yeah, she was nervous. She must be as nervous as he had been when he'd ask her to come over again.

He pondered that for a moment. When he said 'yes', that would be more than just their usual routine or his visit at her birthday. That would be a date. She was asking him out on a date.

"Okay." he heard himself say with a little shaky voice. Great, now he'd grown a second brain that was answering the questions for him. It just kept getting better and better.

"Great. I'll pick you up... say... around eight?" Buffy beamed at him with one of those sunshine smiles.

"Leave a bit of chivalry, will you? I pick you up. Can't give you a ride, but..."

"Not that my mom would ever give me the car again. It's okay. See you on Friday then." she opened the door and was out in a breath.

"So long." was all he could manage, but she didn't hear it anyway.

With a sigh he moved back into the living room again. He'd just been invited out on a date. He couldn't believe it. Maybe it was nothing on her side, but it meant something to him, something that he couldn't find words for. He just hoped that he would find them on Friday night.


	15. First Date

Spinning the Wheel 14 - First Date

"Buffy has a date." Dawn sing-songed while she sat on the bed, watched her older sister applying her make-up.

"God, would you just shut up? It's NOT a date. What part of the not having a date doesn't get in your thick annoying skull?" Buffy grunted, anger making her flush a little bit.

Her sister had been over her the whole week, asking her where they were going and when. She just wanted to know everything. Buffy almost thought that Dawn was more interested in this date than she was.

Wow... wait, date? Now she'd thought it herself. She hadn't considered that thought when she had asked him out the other day. It was just a little gesture to make up for the birthday gift. It was a thank-you, nothing more.  
Really, isn't there anything more? Her inner voice poking her in the mental side. Aren't you asking him out to dinner because you like him? Because you feel for him after you read the newspaper articles and the poem? Well… maybe. But what was so bad about it?  
A date didn't have to be all about the relationships and smooching. She had told her sister about that thought but she just kept annoying her.

When she finished applying the eye make-up, the phone rang.

Dawn leapt into action before she did and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she chirped, her voice dripping with 'I love to annoy my older sister until she hits me'-happiness.

Buffy couldn't make out the voice on the other end but she could bet that it was Spike.

"Yes, she is, but she's still in her robe so that might take another hour."

At that, Buffy rose and yanked the receiver out of her sister's hand. The brunette flopped back on the bed with a satisfied grin.

"Hi." Buffy said and shot Dawn a killer look.

"Buffy? It's me." Spike replied, obviously a little confused.

"Yeah... hi... that was my sister. I'll be there in a minute, okay?"

"Suit yourself. I'll be down here, sit and spin." Without waiting for the answer, he hung up on her.

"Dawn, I'm so... Dawn?" Buffy looked down at the empty bed, her sister was gone. Oh no… she wasn't... she just couldn't…

Buffy grabbed her purse, tossed all the oh so important items in it and rushed down the stairs.

The front door was open and she heard Dawn's voice from outside.

"... really liked it. Got an A for it."

"That's good then. Now I know my advice does work, actually."

"Dawn." Buffy towered over her sister who had sat down on the front steps in front of Spike who looked up at her in surprise. "Would you mind and go inside and wait there until I come back and punish you?" Her tone was dead serious.

"Alright, alright. Not that I did anything wrong." Dawn stood and met Buffy's eyes with the typical 'annoying teenage sister'-look. She knew that Buffy wouldn't hurt her. Her mom would intervene before she could get started. "It was nice meeting you, Spike." she beamed at him, then vanished into the house.

Buffy watched her go, then turned to face Spike again who was still staring at her. She looked... gorgeous. Dark pants, black high heeled boots and silvery top that revealed an interesting sight of her back. And she wore the necklace he had given her.

"Spill, what did she do?" Buffy sighed when she heard the door click shut behind her.

"What?" he asked a little confused. "Oh, no... nothing. She just told me that she got an A on one of her poems. She's a nice girl."

"Wanna have her? I can so share. She's a pain in my ass." she rolled her eyes and came down the front steps.

"No, it's okay. We just talked, that's all. She didn't do anything that she needs to be punished for."

"She never does or she's too damn smart to get caught. Anyway, I'm sorry about that."

"No need to be. You ready then?"

"Sure."

Buffy waited for him to turn around and they headed towards the center of the town.

They made their way in silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable. Buffy's eyes dropped on him occasionally. It seemed as if he was looking better and better with every passing day. Like a flower that was blossoming more and more. God, what a chessy thought, Buffy scolded herself.  
But it was true. Although he was still all in black - black pants, shirt and shoes and that old worn thing of a leather jacket that only a mother could love - he seemed to brighten up a little the more time they spent with each other.

That thought startled the blonde a little. Was she doing that to him? Was she... making him happy?

"Where are we going by the way?" he suddenly asked, making her jump a little and she covered it with re-settling her purse on her shoulder.

"Ehm... there's a little french restaurant downtown. You gotta love that place." Thank god it was dark, he shouldn't see her startled and confused.

"They don't serve frogs, do they? Cause I think I'd have a problem with that." And here comes the most lame joke of the century. Neat, Spike, really neat.

"Only when you ask them for it. That place is just great, you'll see."

The restaurant was located in one of the rather dark alleys in downtown Sunnydale. All alone she wouldn't have gone here, you never knew who was bumping the night.

When Buffy held out the door for him, Spike gave her an uneasy look. He didn't want her to do that, he wanted to keep what little of his dignity was left.

"Thanks." he mumbled quietly when she followed him in and the waiter showed them to their table.

There was a minute of confusion when the guy in the tux had to take away chair from the table and didn't know where to put it instead. But after he had decided to carry it away and not to put it at another table he brought them the menus with a cheerful smile.

Buffy couldn't even pronounce what she ordered along with a bottle of white wine for them but seemed to be something in the chicken family and that was always a good sign.  
Spike didn't have much of a problem with the order but when the waiter was gone again he fell back into an uneasy silence.

"You don't feel comfortable, do you?" Buffy asked after a while, sipping from her wine.

"What?" Spike hadn't listened to carefully. His thoughts had drifted off a little but now he was snapping back into attention.

"You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here." she explained and he knew she was right. It must be too obvious.

"No, it's..." he tried to come up with something reasonable but she cut him off.

"No, tell me the truth. We can go. I can ask them to make the dinner 'to go' and we are out of here in no time." a flash of disappointment hit her as she said it. What if he said that they should go? The night would be ruined.

"Yes." he said, his voice and expression grim. "I am uncomfortable but we don't need to go. I can handle it." Yeah, right. Like when you couldn't stand being at the mall for two hours.

"What is it?" She put down the glass and propped her elbows on the table, looking him right in the face with concern dominating her features.

"It's nothing, really." he didn't want to tell her, he didn't want her to know about his insecurities.

"I won't talk to you the whole evening if you don't tell me."

Spike sighed deeply, fumbling the whiter than white napkin a little too nervously. "It's... it's just the way that guy looks at me."

"Who? The waiter?"

He nodded. He felt embarrassed to tell her that. It was like as if he had to admit that he was still sleeping with the lights on. Not that he did.

"When you held out the door for me, when he had to take away that chair… It's always the same. People either look at me as if I'm an alien, they stare at me and they don't even know that they do. Or they totally avoid me, like I'm not there at all." his voice was wavering a little. He really felt like a little child. A kid who woke up from a nightmare and who came crawling into the mother's bed.

"And what would be worse?" Buffy asked frankly, placing her chin in her hand. She studied him while he was staring ahead on the table cloth. She could almost see him shifting gears in his head until he answered.

"I don't know. I never really thought about it that way." he said, his voice calm with a little sad note to it. "Thing is... I know that I'm different. I know every single second of the day that I'm not like them. And wouldn't be that bad if... if the people wouldn't remind me all the time. When they stare at me... or when they don't, when they avoid me I feel even more different. And that's what hurts the most."

If somebody had told him an hour ago that he would open up to her that way he would have laughed out loud. He didn't know why he was doing it, it just came out as if they were talking about the weather. But he couldn't deny the tiny feeling of relieve that cursed through him as soon as the words were out.

Buffy stared at him for moment, comprehending his words as best as she could. Then she lowered her gaze. This was all her fault. She hadn't thought this threw when she had asked him out and now he was here, feeling uncomfortable, because of her. "This was a real bad idea, wasn't it? I'm sorry I'm putting you through this." she replied quietly.

Instinct drove him as he reached out with his hand, placing it over hers gently. He didn't know why nor could he stop himself before it was to late. "No, luv. It's okay. It's not your fault. I should have told you before." His eyes dropped on their hands and he pulled back immediately. Exactly what was he doing there? What was going on with him? It had to be the fancy restaurant, not doubt. "Actually…" he continued and felt a slow blush crawl on his face. "Actually it's… better when you are around."

Buffy looked down at her hand and then up in his face in surprise. She tried hard to follow the turn of this whole situation. This was something she hadn't expected. She hadn't expected him to reveal to much about what he felt and now with the touching? Okay, it was a brief connection that was hardly a touch but anyway. She didn't know what to make of it so she just stared him for a couple of seconds.

"I mean…" he sensed her uncertainty as much as she must have sensed his. This was something he hadn't planned and even if he had he would have slapped himself for it. "You're... you are with me... despite... this." he gestured down at the wheelchair. "That's something that doesn't happen very often. It... it helps." he smiled shyly, looking down at the table again.

If the world would just open up and swallow him whole. That would help even more. He didn't know what he was doing. Okay... he knew what he was doing but he didn't understand it.  
For three years he had never opened up to someone like that and now she came along. The girl that had crashed into him with her car and he was telling her things he had told nobody. This was getting way out of control.

An awkward and highly uncomfortable silence settled between them, both trying to understand what was happening here.

Finally the waiter approached their table, serving the dinner.

They are in silence for a while until Buffy had collected all her courage and spoke again.

"So... do you like it?" she asked.

Spike nodded first since he was still chewing on a piece of meat but then answered. "Yeah, it's really good." a thin smile lightened his features a little. "Never knew about this place before," he added after a second.

"Me, neither. Riley showed this place to me about a year ago. He knew some of the secret places around town." the chicken tasted a little bitter with the memory of her ex but Buffy covered it as best as she could.

"That former boyfriend Riley? The one that left to go MIA?" Spike asked, unsure if he was pushing it a little too far.

"One and the same." Buffy nodded shortly and swallowed on the piece of brandy-pear.

"May I ask you something?" he didn't dare to look at her, fearing to be rejected. He didn't know where that sudden interest came from, he just wanted to know.

"What?" the blonde looked up at him.

"Why? I mean... why did he leave you?"

"I told you. He finally decided that I didn't love him the way he wanted me to."

"And I'm sensing that there is a little more to it than that. No guy just stands up and leaves like that. Not if he's a real man." Spike, don't you think you're going too far here? His inner voice poked him in the ribs but he pushed it away.

"Yeah, there is a little more." Buffy hesitated. Although she tried to convince herself that she was over Riley, whenever she thought about him a flash of pain stung her heart. More pain than she wanted to admit.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Spike said when he saw her hesitation.

"No, it's okay." she paused again, collecting her thoughts about what to tell him and what not. But he had been honest with her, too. "We met in my first year at college. He was a tutor for my psy-class and we got along really great. I mean, there were some difficulties in the beginning but then… It was about half a year ago when I…I found a phone number in his pants. And... I called it. I was curious." She took another bite of her meal before she continued. "It was... a hooker."

Spike gasped silently. That was something that surprised him a little.

"Her name was Denise. I asked her... if she knew Riley. I was curious. And I found out that... he was seeing her... frequently. So I asked him about it and he said... that I didn't love him. I didn't give him enough. As if that ho could give him more. So he... he said that if I didn't try to work on our relationship he would break up with me. What he didn't tell me in the first place is that he had already planned breaking up with me and that he was heading off to some sort of boot camp that night. I tried to stop him... but I was too late. He was already gone."

With a deep sigh she ended her story. A tear stung her eyes but she didn't want him to catch her crying by whipping it away. So she tried to busy herself with cleaning the brandy sauce off of her plate.

"He is even a more stupid wanker than I thought in the first place." Spike almost burst out. That story had fuelled some furious feelings in him that he hadn't been aware of before. "How could he ever do that to you? A coward git, that's what he is."

Buffy was a little surprised by his sudden rush of anger. Why was he acting all defending all of a sudden. That wasn't his business, so why did he care like that?

"You have a really colourful way to put things. But thanks for the concern." she tried to cover her uncertainty about the situation with one of her snappy comebacks.

He smiled at that, if only a little. Yes, he was angry. Even though he wouldn't admit more than that in a million years. The story about that Riley had pissed him off. If he could, he would rip his head off for being such an asshole.  
He mentally shook his head about that. Why was he even caring so much? It wasn't his business, not at all. He wasn't supposed to bother that much but he did. He couldn't deny it. It was there, deep down inside him and it was fighting its way to come up.

"Oh... before I forget." Buffy blurted, interrupting the awkward silence. "Our drama teacher send out a memo today. They scheduled the play in ten weeks."

"Ten weeks?" Spike raised his eyebrows at that. "That's not much."

"Guess what I thought." She was glad how easily he hooked up on the change of the subject. She really didn't want to talk about Riley anymore. It would only spoil the moment. "I mean, it's not that drama is my only schedule. I don't know how to get the lines in that time."

"I can still help you." he shrugged a little, as if stating something totally normal.

"You sure I'm really not bothering you? I mean I'm such a horrible student when it comes to acting. I must be annoying as hell."

"As I said… I like having you around. Plus... you're not that bad actually. We will get this done." his smile spread a little more as did the light blush on his cheeks. Oh, he was getting in trouble with all those little compliments. He should really watch his tongue or she would jump to some wrong conclusions

. 

"Well... if you say so. I nail you there then." she beamed back at him, her eyes sparkling a little brighter than before.

"So... if you want, you can swing by any time you want." They had been at this point before but again, but again he was a little afraid. He couldn't push that away. It was like a psychic tattoo he couldn't get rid of. The fear of being rejected stayed with him no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that she wouldn't say 'no'.

"Mind if we start tomorrow then? I'm really afraid that I might blow up that whole thing."

"No problem. Just give me a call before you show up. I tend to sleep a little longer on Saturdays. Some of the old rock 'n' roll days are still stuck somewhere I guess." he covered that pang of sorrow in his heart with a smile, but his eyes gave away what was going on in his mind.

"I'd really like to hear you play." Buffy said, not knowing where that sudden wish came from.

"I kinda…" Spike hesitated. Typical. One little statement you don't think through before you say it and you're at the point of no return again. But he really didn't want to talk about that right now. Never, actually. "I kinda don't play anymore."

"But you still got the guitar."

"It's not something you give away so easily. Plus that thing was expensive as hell. But... ever since… the accident... I can't bring myself to play anymore. It just doesn't feel right, you know?"

Buffy nodded but she didn't know. She didn't understand. But she knew that it had to have something to do with the girl that died that night, his girlfriend.  
But she also knew that she couldn't ask him about it although she was dying to know.

They finished that dinner in silence. That was a little awkward feel to it but it was still bearable, so both of them didn't do anything about it.

Spike felt a whole lot uncomfortable having Buffy to pay for the dinner. There was too much chivalry in him to pay for the meal when he was out on a date. Wow... .date? No, no no, no date here.

When they reached Buffy's home they stood in front of the porch, not knowing what to say. Here they were, at the end of a really nice evening and now they didn't know how to end it properly.

It had been a long time since Buffy had been on a date, especially with someone she wouldn't take inside afterwards. The last date she could remember was with Riley and that ended up in her bedroom.  
But this was different. This was a story with an open ending.

"I..." Spike broke the silence after a while. "I... wanted to thank you… for this evening I mean. It was… really nice." he lowered his gaze, his heart was pounding in his chest a little too furiously.

"Pleasure's mine." she beamed at him, glad that he had finally said something. "I'll... see you tomorrow then?"

"Sure enough." he nodded briskly.

"Well then… I'll... go inside and kill my sister."

A smirk crept in his face that made his eyes sparkle in the streetlight. "Say hi from me, will you?"

"Sure." There it was again. The uncomfortable silence. Somehow something was stopping them to just part and call it a night. As if something was still missing. Buffy wanted to turn around and go inside but something was keeping her outside.

Another second passed until she knew what that something was. Spike had taken hold of her left hand and breathed a short kiss on her skin, his lips nothing more than butterfly wings against her flesh.

While he did that he looked up at her, locking his eyes with hers. There was no fear this time, but there was something else she couldn't fathom. And that - the uncertainty about that look - scared her this time. She didn't know what to make of it but before she could try to fathom it Spike pulled back from her and a slow smile spread on his lips.

"Goodnight." he simply said, turned around and started down the street towards his home.

Buffy stood outside her house for a couple of minutes, the feeling of the kiss still lingering on the back of her hand.

So that wasn't a date, huh?


	16. Interlude

Spinning the Wheel 15 - Interlude

The ten weeks between their date and the opening of the play went by faster then either of them had expected.

After meeting the next day they had been together almost everyday, rehearsing. Buffy's acting got a lot better over the time and after one day of intensive English training she was able to pronounce all the nasty the little words that had made Shakespear the "most crappy crap of all craps since the crap had been invented".  
After she'd said that Spike hadn't talked to her for about five minutes but one of her overly dramatic performances had shaken him out of his mock-pout.

But they didn't just rehears together, they spent more time with each other besides the play and going through the text.  
By the time, Buffy introduced him to her friends and her mother.  
Joyce was more than friendly, which tended to be a little embarrassing. But at the end of that evening, they got along a lot better than before and Spike had told her that he liked her mother. Or fancied her, how he put it.  
Her sister had been jumping for joy when she'd invited him over to dinner. They had talked about poetry almost the whole evening and Buffy couldn't deny a pang of jealousy seeing her sister almost devouring the guy she was supposed to hang with.

Buffy was surprised seeing Spike getting along so well with her friends.  
Well... except Xander maybe. The carpenter had built a ramp leading up the front stair so Spike could come over to her house once in a while. That had been the most uncomfortable situation between them. He didn't want to use it and he could be stubborn like a baby. But finally Buffy managed to persuade him. After that Spike didn't miss a change to call Xander that most colourful variety of nicknames. The blonde could only shake her head over that. Maybe it was one of those guy things, with the whole masculinity and dignity involved.  
She didn't want to get mixed up in it so she just smiled over it. And it was funny seeing Xander turning purple every once in a while and Spike with the plastered smirk on his face.

One night when they were over at his place watching a movie together, Buffy watched him out of the corner of her eyes. He had changed, rapidly. It was as if someone had taken a brush and had started to paint him in brighter colors, making him smiled and even laugh a lot more often. She really liked it when he laughed, it made his eyes sparkle like a sunshiny summer sky.  
Although he could get grumpy from one second to the other, they had become kind of friends. Of course, there were things they didn't talk about, things that Buffy didn't want to stir but he had opened up to her about a couple of things like on their dinner that day.

She hadn't realised that Spike had been watching her at the same moment. She thought that the smile on his lips had been caused by the movie. But he was thinking about their time together, too. About the days they had spent together, how much she had warmed up his life.  
She was like the bright sun shining down on frozen earth, melting it at the edges, letting the little, vulnerable tips of flowers poke through.

He had gone away from that flower analogy the second he had thought it up, but he knew that it was right. She had changed his life, just by being there with him.  
He had been out, had met other people, made new friends. It was nice to have some people around once in a while although he still preferred being alone. Or just with her.  
But he also knew that she had changed. When they had met for the first time, she had been like all those other girls who had nothing more on their mind than guys and clothes. She had been the all-American mall girl. But now he saw what lay beyond that.  
A young but strong women, with her own thoughts, ideas and dreams. Someone who cared about her friends and the people around her. Someone who could listen when it was necessary.

They had become friends.  
More than that but he pushed that little thought that came up once in a while away as best as he could manage. They were friends, good friends who liked to spend time with each other It was nice to have somebody around after all this time alone.


	17. The Show Must Go On

Spinning the Wheel 16 - The Show Must Go On

"I can't do this. I'll make a total fool out of myself. Everybody will laugh about me. And all the other guys in class will hate me cause I'm screwing up their play. This will be the worst day of my life. I swear. I won't go out there. I just can't."

Buffy was pacing back and forth in the dressing room behind the stage panicking. She heard the low murmur of the audience settling into place, and heard the rumbling on stage while the props and the set were being prepared.

The rooms around her buzzed with anticipation. The other girls who shared the room with her were applying their make-up and slipping into their costumes but none of them seemed as anxious as the blonde.

"Buffy, you just got to calm down." Willow tried for the hundredth time to get through to her friend but nothing seemed to work. She plopped down on one of the chair, put her head in her hands and sighed deeply while Buffy continued her pacing and rambling.

"This will be hell. I can't even remember my lines when I have to be on stage. I won't go out there. They can't force me, right?"

"God, would you just shut up." Willow eapt to her feet, staring at her friend with wide eyes.

Buffy stared at her for a moment. That had finally gotten through the thick cloud of stage fright around her.

"I'll go get Spike." With that, the redhead vanished from the room and slammed the door shut behind her. The blonde stared after her friend and at the door but the second she was gone, she started pacing again.

The foyer was still crowded. The play was supposed to start in about half an hour but most people wanted to finish the usual small talk and welcome cocktails.

Willow glanced about the room and saw Spike in the far corner, talking to Buffy's mother and Giles.

"Thank god you're here. You gotta come with me." Her pleading look caught Spike's attention immediately when she reached them.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Something's wrong with Buffy?" That caught Joyce's and Giles' attention.

"Kind of, yeah. I'm afraid you're the only one who can help her now. I'm at the end of my rope." The redhead sighed again.

"What's wrong with her?"

"She's freaking out." Willow bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet.

"Again?" Spike rolled his eyes but followed the redhead without another word.

Carefully, he knocked on the door of the girl's dressing room. Willow had made the bee-line to the bath-room, saying that she couldn't help Buffy anyway.

It took about a minute until a young girl with short dark hair ripped the door open. And it took her another minute to realize that Spike wasn't at her eye-level.

"Yeah, what's up?" she blurted then.

"Is Buffy in there? I need to speak to her."

"Sure." With that, she slammed the door shut again. But she didn't bother to turn down her volume when she reported him to Buffy. "Buffy, that Billy Idol guy is out there."

He heard muffled chuckling from the room and shifted uncomfortable as much as he was able to shift before the blonde opened the door. "Thanks, Kathy." she said back into the room and closed the door behind her. "Hey, what are you doing here?" she smiled down at him.

"Willow sent me. Said you were freaking." He looked at her, concern flickering over his feature. Buffy was pale with a greenish shimmer around her nose. And her hands were shaking nervously.

"Yeah, a little." she tried to cover it and grasped the flowing skirt of her costume.

"Tell me about it." he demanded, his voice somewhat hard but still friendly. It had that resolved tone to it that made you confess everything.

The blonde hesitated for a second but he had that look on his face that sent shivers down her spine. It was as if he was looking right through her, as if he could read what was on her mind. She lowered her head, escaping his gaze.

"I can't do this, Spike. I can't go out there." her voice wasn't more than a whisper. She felt embarrassed that Willow had told him about her stage fright.

Spike sighed. "We've been through this, Buffy. You can do it and you know it."

"No, I can't. I don't remember anything. Not a single word. It's all gone. When I go out there…"

He cut her off by taking both her hands in his, locking his eyes with hers again. "Buffy, calm down, okay?" he said with a soothing voice, squeezing her hands slightly.

Buffy stared at him in surprise, his sudden contact had taken her a little off guard. And his eyes did the rest, again. They were paralyzing her, drawing her in and keeping her there at some bizarre place, revealing so much and nothing at the same time. She couldn't stand looking at him that way but it was also something she loved to do.

"Now, listen to me." he continued after a moment's silence. "I know this is hard, you are afraid and you think you're gonna die out there. You want to run away as far as you can. But that's not true. I've seen you, going through the lines with me and up there on stage during rehearsal. I know that you can do it, more than anybody else." Buffy tore her eyes away for a moment but focused back on him when he continued. "And if that doesn't help… then do it for me." he hesitated again but this time not for the dramatic break in his speech but for a little blush to crawl onto his cheeks. "I'd go up on stage and do it for you but I can't. Never again. But you can. You can go and bath in the spotlight and in the audience and you can kick their asses up there."

Buffy couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Will you do that for me?" His last words came out a little quiet and a sad shadow flickered over his face, clouding his eyes for a moment.

She had to swallow and just nodded silently.

There she stood in the hallway behind the stage getting the most personal encouragement speech ever and she didn't know what to say. She couldn't even say thank you, she could just stand there and stare at him. He was holding her hands in his warm, soft palms, soothing her with his eyes and words and she wished for nothing more than to crawl into his lap and hug him.

But before she could so much as blink, someone bumped into her from behind and she stumbled, breaking the contact to regain her balance.

"Buffy, we gotta go. Curtain opens in five minutes." Kathy blurted and made her way down the hall, the other girls pouring out of the room as well.

The blonde turned towards Spike again and gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you." she said quietly.

Spike just nodded and his eyes followed her when she disappeared towards the stage.

"Break a leg." he muttered under his breath.

That hadn't been planned, not at all. He didn't want to give her a speech like that, giving her so much insight. Of course, they had shared something before but this…

It had been lead by more emotion than anything else before. It came from deep down inside him and in a very strange way, it was scary. The feeling that was bubbling up inside him grew more and more intense the harder he tried to push it away. It was like a gentle warmth spreading in his stomach, a crackling fire in a cold winter night.

A ringing sound buzzed down the hallway, indicating that the play was about to start. With a resigned sigh he made his way back into the foyer and then into the theatre itself.

Since he'd visited some of the rehearsals he had his place in the back right beside the door. He couldn't take one of the usual seats, plus he was comfortable with this. He could see everything but nobody could watch him.

And so he did when the curtain slowly drifted to each side, revealing the site of a beautifully designed stage. Some students of the art department had worked on the set and they did a fantastic job.

Anticipation was tingling inside him as Buffy's big entrance came closer and closer. He found himself crossing his fingers for her. Hopefully, his little speech had helped a little and she didn't screw it up.

"They met me in the day of success; and I have learn'd that perfect'st report, they have more in the, than mortal knowledge…"

Spike expelled a breath he didn't know he was holding when Buffy's line came out the way they had rehearsed them a dozen times.

She was sitting at a table, reading a letter from her husband. The spotlight bathing her in a golden light. With her hair done in a classic 18th century fashion and the dark green skirt she looked like an… she was simply beautiful. He couldn't tare his eyes away from her during the whole scene, following every step over the stage.

It was perfect. It was just the way they had done it in the rehearsals. Her words came out clear and right and her acting was better than ever, like she'd never done anything else. As if she actually was this character and at the same time, so much that he could just stare at her. He just blinked when the curtain closed again and she was gone.

The play was the greatest success the drama class had ever seen. They even got a standing ovation and the curtain had to open five times.

The foyer was packed when everybody gathered around the tables filled with champagne and orange juice.

Spike sat a little off to one side talking to Joyce and Dawn while Giles was on his mission to get them drinks. He had a hard time making a bee-line through all the chatting people, their talk about the play filling the room with a cheerful rumble.

"You did a great job, Spike." Joyce smiled brightly down on him and he blushed a little.

"Wasn't really my job. I was just helping where I could, the rest was up to your daughter."

"Yeah, but she would've chickened out if you hadn't talked her into pulling through. She told me about that like twenty-four seven." Dawn rolled her eyes, thinking about the time when she had to listen to Buffy's drama-moments at home.

"She did?" he cocked his hand to one side, looking up at the girl a little curiously.

"She did what?" Buffy appearing behind her sister, looking over the brunette's shoulder with bright eyes.

"Nothing, we were just talking about you behind your back." Dawn pulled the blonde into a tight hug. "You were great. I always hoped for you to make a total fool out of yourself. But hey… never happened."

"You're so dear. Thank you." Buffy nodded, her voice had a little sarcastic edge to it.

"You're welcome." Dawn beamed.

"My daughter's an actress. I'm so proud of you."

Buffy couldn't even blink before Joyce had taken her into her arms. Her mother's voice sounded proud and a little teary.

"Please don't give me the 'my daughter's going to make it' speech again, mom. Just let me bath in the glory or stardom a little, will you?" she mumbled into her ear before her mother released her.

"I know. I know." Joyce whipped a stray tear away before smiling brightly again.

"Congratulations, Buffy. You were really great up there." Giles appeared from behind, handing her a glass of champagne, and padded her on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Giles. I'm glad that I didn't blame the Mother country." she winked at him before her eyes finally settled on Spike who had been watching her intently the whole time.

"You did it." he simply said and couldn't keep the proud tone out of his voice. As she stood before him now in her jeans and shirt and her hair all loose she looked even more beautiful than up on stage. She was glowing with something he couldn't fathom.

"Yeah." Buffy's voice was calm and barely audible in the buzz of voices in the room.

"Thank you." he looked up at her, drinking in her sight and for a moment he felt something snapping open inside him, letting in the radiance that surrounded her and his heart skipped a beat.

"You're welcome." her eyes sparkled down on him and she nodded slightly.

They looked at each other for a moment, forgetting the masses of people around them. Everything else was just a distant rumble of sound but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered.

Spike broke the eye contact first, blinked and dropped his gaze into his lap. The noise around them came rushing back and was too loud for a moment.

"I... ehm.. I'd better go now. All these people... they kinda make my head spin."

"Shall I… walk you home?" Buffy asked, still unaware of the people around him.

"If you want to."

"I'd love to." she smiled shyly. "Mom? Will you pick me up at Spike's place in say... half an hour?"

Her mother's head snapped up from the conversation with Willow and Tara. "Sure, sweetie. You're going so soon, Spike?"

"Yeah. I'm not the guy for the big crowds. But it was nice to talk to you again. Giles, I'll get back to you about this Champion's Leaque thing, okay?"

"I'll count on it." the shopkeeper replied with a nod.

"Well then... we are off. See you guys later." Buffy waved a hand at her family and friends, then made her way to the door.

The cool night air sent a chill down her spine and Buffy rubbed her arms, trying to fight the goose-bumps on her arms.

"You cold?" Spike asked, concern in his voice when they were out on the street.

"Nah, it's okay. Was just too damn hot in there. I'll get used to it in a minute."

They made their way in silence but Buffy felt him glancing up her every now and then.

"What?" she asked after a while.

"What, what?"

"What are you looking at? Do I still have make-up somewhere? What is it?"

"It's nothing, really." he lied, the dark of the night hid his blush. Whenever he looked at her he felt that warmth inside him, like she was radiating. But he couldn't tell her that, she would totally mistake him. "I just… you were amazing up there."

"Although I know that you're lying to me, the compliment makes up for it. So, thank you."

"No... I…" he broke off again, the words he had planned to say suddenly gone. "I have to thank you. For going out on stage and doing it."

"Well, it's my way to say thank you for wasting your time with me. It's really no big deal." But they both knew that it wasn't true. Buffy couldn't tell him that she'd just played for him. When she had been on stage all she hadn't played for the audience but for him. She had seen him in the back in his usual place, his bright blond hair giving him away despite the dark in the theatre. When she had her monologues she'd just done them for him, speaking to him like she'd done during the rehearsals. Sensing him there had given her the strength to pull through.

"It means a lot to me. You should know that." he stopped, hands resting on the wheels, and looked up at her. Buffy could have sworn she saw a stray tear glistening in his eyes. If so, he blinked it away quickly. But his voice was wavering a little nonetheless.

"I know." Buffy lowered her gaze a little embarrassed. She didn't know exactly but she could sense from the look in his eyes. "I… wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for your pep talk back there. That really helped."

Spike looked up at her, narrowing his eyebrows a little as if trying to shift gears around her words. But then a slow smile spread on his face.

"You're welcome." he nodded ever so slightly and they continued there way in silence, dwelling in each other's presence. There were no more words needed.

By the time they reached the apartment building Buffy had seriously started freezing. But she didn't want to tell him since he'd asked before and she had denied it. She was shivering and rubbed her arms every now and then to keep off the chill. She should have taken her jacket but that was in her mother's car who was supposed to pick her up in about five minutes.

"You're not planning on doing any other plays in the future, are you? Cause I really enjoyed this." Spike said, twisting the keys in his hands.

"Not very likely. I had enough nerve-wreaking for a lifetime." she smiled apologetically.

This was one of those moments she wished didn't happen. They had to say their goodbye not knowing what was going to happen next, weather there would be a next meeting or not and neither of them dared to do the first move.

"You know..." Buffy began finally. "Since tomorrow's Saturday…how about a breakfast?"

"Well, I usually do that every morning." a smirk flickered over his face when he squinted up at her.

"Duh." she propped her hand up on her hip and gave him a mock-scowl. "I mean you and me. I bring the food and you provide the coffee. Sound good?"

"Well..." he hesitated for a second but nodded finally. "Okay. When?"

"Say... nine-ish? I planned some shopping with Willow for tomorrow. But if you want to come along…"

"Shopping with a bunch of girls? No, thank you. But the rest sounds good."

"Great." Buffy beamed at him.

"Well then… bet your mother will be here any…"

That was all he could say, before the front door was ripped opened and something blond rushed into him.

"Spike?" the woman's voice chirped and she straightened, shaking her long hair out of her face. She held a small cardboard box in her arm, the content rattled with a fragile sound.

Spike stared at the woman for a second, blinked and tried to say something but closed his mouth again without a single syllable.

"Hi. I'm… Buffy." Buffy held out her hand to the woman.

The blonde seized her up and down, snorted in distaste and continued ignoring her. "I didn't know you were coming back so soon. I just picked up a few things I left here."

Spike still stared at her as if she'd fallen out of heaven just now. It took him a couple of seconds to find language again. "Harmony?"

"Well... yeah." she rolled her eyes at him.

"What are you doing here?" Something in his mind stopped him from understanding what was going on just now.

"Are you deaf now? I left some stuff here and now I came here to pick it up."

"It's been three years."

"I just came to miss the stuff now. So what?"

The conversation was interrupted by the horn of a car. Buffy's head wiped around, finding her mother parking against the curb.

"Well, I gotta go now. See you tomorrow, Spike?"

"Uh-uh." he nodded but didn't look up at the blonde.

"Okay. Was nice to meet you." she said towards Harmony but only earning another disparaging look.

"Yeah, whatever." Harmony replied.

With a shrug, Buffy went to the car and got in the passenger seat. Her eyes drifted back to the couple in front of the door. She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like this woman in her cheap pinkish outfit from the very beginning the tension between her and Spike was almost visible. There was something going on between them, she didn't know. She hadn't asked him about anything in his past but this was something she hadn't expected.

Three years? Must have been after the accent. Could it be that she had been his girlfriend? Way no. Not in a million years. Buffy had seen picture of the other woman, Drusilla. And she had been nothing like her. All dark and hypnotic eyes and with a touch of gothic to her appearance. But Harmony - the name mostly spoke for itself - was a study in contrast, with a bright blond hair and the girlish clothing. It just couldn't be.

"Everything okay?" her mother asked concerned while Buffy still looked out of the window.

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Who was that woman?" Dawn blurted from the backseat.

"I don't know."

"Who's that girl?" Harmony asked, balancing the cardboad box on her hip.

"Who?" This couldn't happen right now. It had been three years since she'd stormed out of the apartment in a flourish of blond hair and silken skirts. And after that he hadn't seen her anymore. But now she was back, she had been in his apartment picking up some stuff she suddenly came to miss. What was going on here?

"The little blonde with the last year's cloth?" she replied as if revealing the mystery of the ages.

"Oh… that was Buffy." he blinked, realizing for the first time that Buffy was gone. He knew he'd said goodbye - or something like that - but he didn't really comprehend it.

"Your new girlfriend?"

Spike blinked at that, considering the thought for the first time. "No... she's just... she's just a friend."

"Yeah, thought so." she snorted again then burst out into a girlish fit of giggles. "You know, one could really think you're some kind of eunuch or gay or something."

"What?" he stared at her. He couldn't believe his ears, she couldn't have said that.

"You know what I'm talking about, Spike." she made a dramatic pause before continuing. "You think you have a real chance with that girl? I mean with your abstinence or whatever you call it. That's not really attractive, you know?"

He couldn't reply, he couldn't even think of words. He could just stare at the blonde woman with the penetrating voice who looked down on him in total distaste.

"Well then... I'll be gone. See you around."


	18. Almost Over

Spinning the Wheel 17 - Almost Over

Dreams.

Of course they had to come back full throttle when you're already down. They kick you in the gut when you're still on the ground coughing up your own blood.

It was always like that. The worse the day was, the worse the dreams became. As if some unconscious amplifier turned up the volume.

Spike had sat up straight on his makeshift bed on the couch. Breath was catching in his throat and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and chest.

This time, they had giving him the digitally remastered DVD version, every gruesome detail in agonizing slow-motion. He wasn't supposed to miss a single thing of it although he knew the story by heart after all those years. God damn, he knew it too well.

Buffy clawed her way out of the slumber when her alarm clock beeped in protest. The red numbers indicated 7.45. Way to early to get up on a Saturday morning but she had promised Willow and Tara to come along to the mall.

Plus, her mother had given her some extra money. 'For the big star', she'd said.

Great. She had to star in a play first before her mom gave her some extra shopping-money. It wasn't fair. But buying new clothes with other people's money could heal some of the gaping wounds the play had torn into her self-confidence. It would help.

Yawning, she padded over into the bathroom, kicked the door shut with her butt and turned on the faucet of the shower. There was much water needed to get her into gear this morning.

Spike reached for the wheelchair, pulled it close and thumbed down the brakes. His hands were shaking violently and he had to take some deep breaths for them to steady. When he lifted himself off of the couch and into the chair, his left arm almost gave out which would have caused him to smack down on the coffee table. But in the last moment he caught himself, twisted his body as much as possible and slumped down in the chair.

More sweat formed on his forehead. His back hurt again, white hot pain was running up and down his spine and he had to clench his teeth over a groan. He hates this. He couldn't run away from it, he couldn't even run. In moments like these, he really hated his life, no matter how good the day had been. The nights were hell.

Slowly, he made his way to the bathroom. The cold in the room sent a shiver down his back, causing the ripped nerves to twitch even more. He wiped the sweat off his brow and reached for the small cabinet under the sink. With trembling fingers he took out one of the plastic tubes, shook some of the pills into his palm and swallowed them with a hand full of cold water.

But this time, the pain didn't go away as usual. It had it's paralyzing fingers still tightly around his back, squenching(squeezing) every bit of feeling out of him, making his arms go numb as well.

With a shuddering sigh he moved back into the living-room, the plastic tube still in his lap.

The hot water was pouring down her body, the spray prickling on her skin like billions of tiny needles. She rolled her shoulder and her neck, trying to force the tiredness away. It didn't really help but at least she had tried it.

After almost half an hour, Buffy stepped out of the shower and wrapped a huge, fluffy towel around her naked form. She shivered a little as she hopped across the hall. Her stomach growled in protest. She so needed a decent breakfast, soon. With another towel wrapped around her damp hair, she stood in front of her closet, trying to decide what to wear.

It was just a breakfast, she tried to remember herself. Breakfast with Spike and shopping with her friends, a great day to come. So she decided for something casual, black pants and a white shirt with a golden skull printed on it. She couldn't remember were she had bought that thing but it was one of her favorite pieces.

Sleep wouldn't come again, although he had taken some more of the tablets, actually more than he was supposed to. But the pain in his back remained, throbbing like a blacksmith hammering on an anvil. That and the dreams would keep him awake.

The clock in the kitchen indicated almost 5am. It was still dark outside and sun wouldn't come up before six. And Buffy was supposed to show up at nine. He just hoped the sedatives would kick in until then. He didn't want her to see him like that, leaning over the dining table, trying to breath through the pain. He didn't want her to know how pathetic his life really was.

During those three months they knew each other he had showed her only the sugar coated version of his existence. There had been some moments in which he had told her about his thoughts - like that he couldn't stand people staring at him - but he never talked about the pain and the dreams. That was way too private for her to know and he didn't know if he was even able to go through it by telling her.

His fingers clawed at his hair and he winced as another wave of pain rolled through him. It was worse than ever before. Maybe the encounter with Harmony hadn't just brought bad memories but also a whole lot more pain.

Harmony… Harmony…

Why had she been here? She wanted to pick up some stuff. He couldn't even remember what she'd left here back then. Maybe one of those trashy little unicorns she collected. She must have searched his whole apartment cause he didn't leave things like that lying around. How long had she been here before they came? It must have been hours.

And what had she said? He wouldn't have a chance with Buffy? Did she really think that Buffy was his girlfriend? He had told her not but Harmony wasn't the brightest person on god's green earth. His girlfriend? Like hell. Why would she think that she was his girlfriend?

They were just friends.

Or were they?

"Mom? Do we still have those croissants or do I have to get some on my way?" Buffy entered the kitchen fully dressed and with a cloud of vanilla perfume marking her way.

"Why?" Joyce Summers sat at the kitchen counter, reading the morning newspaper.

"I want to go over to Spike's. We're having breakfast together and I promised the food."

"Sorry, hun. We're fresh out of those." She smiled at her daughter, who had a bright smile plastered on her lips.

"'kay. I'm going to be late then but at least they will be fresh. Willow is going to pick me up at his place and then we'll head for the mall, okay?"

"Sure, sweetie. Have fun."

"Thanks, mom." Buffy gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek and then left the house through the back door.

'You know what? You're such a loser. I thought you were cool, with your band and all, but you're nothing. You're even too pathetic to be called a loser.'

'What are you talking about?'

'This? With us? It's over, Spike, over and done with. If you don't want to screw me, then fine. I can please myself all too well.'

'Harm, I talked to you about this. It's not that…'

'What? That you don't want to? Like hell. You don't want to fuck me. That's all. God, I can't believe that I had a crush on you. You're just so lame.'

'Hey, Harm, luv. Wait, lemme explain...'

'No, there is nothing to explain. You... are nothing. You can't give me anything that is worth staying here. See you around.'

Her voice was ringing in his head like somebody had struck a bell inside his skull. He put his hands over his ears, trying to keep it but it was inside him. The memory he had successfully stuffed in the far corner of his mind, even behind the accident, came rushing back. For almost three years he hadn't even thought about Harmony and what she's said that day but now…

Now she was back in his life and with her all the horrible words she'd said.

But what was worse... she was right.

And what she had said about Buffy… that he wouldn't have a chance with her…

It was right, too.

He couldn't deny it. He had feelings for her, as tiny as they were. The way she looked at him, the way she smiled at him and the way she touched him on occasions. It all felt just a little too nice to be platonic. They sent shivers down his spine. Not arousal but it felt… warm, comfortable. It was good to have her around, to talk to her. It was as if she was radiating, making him feel good. For the first time in three years… he felt good.

But he didn't know if she was thinking the same. Of course he had assumed she did, just because she was hanging around with him, but he couldn't be sure. And he couldn't talk to her about it. She would laugh at him, laugh at him like Cecily had done back in the days.

What was it that he could give a girl like Buffy except pep talks when she needed them? Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away from Spike's apartment but Buffy was going to be late. It was 8.55 already and she was still standing in front of the huge shelf and couldn't decide. Why did there have to be so many kinds of croissants? With cheese, with chocolate… anything you could think of.

At least they don't mix chocolate with cheese, Buffy thought with a little giggle that made the older woman beside her frown at her.

With a puff of expelled breath she stepped forward and grabbed one of the bags. She could have gone to a real bakery but that was downtown and she didn't have time to go there. So they would have to deal with these. And since Spike wasn't all into the high cuisine she didn't think it would be much of a problem.

As she went on to pay for the croissants, her eyes caught one of the glossy magazines next to the cash register. One of her favorite actors was seductively smiling at her and she just had to flip through the pages to see if there were any sexy picture for her to drool on.

Jack, Johnny and Jim. You couldn't have better friends when you realize that your life is a mess, that you'll never be able to please the girl who makes your miserable existence a little more pleasant and when the pain in your back makes your paralyzed toes curl.

Spike still sat at the table but this time he held a half-empty liquor bottle in his hand. He didn't bother to take a glass from the kitchen, that would eat up several valuable minutes he needed to get drunk enough so he wouldn't feel any of it anymore. The alcohol would dull the ache a bit, at least those were his hopes.

The throbbing nerve-endings in his back were giving him hell of a time just to breath. They twitched and misfired whenever he tried to move even a little. This wasn't one of the jolts he had when he got up in the morning or when he laid down in bed at night, this was constant, serious and agonizing pain.

Tears stung his eyes and he clenched his teeth over another groan. When the pain released it's death grip a little he took a long swig from the bottle. The whiskey burned down his throat, setting his insides on fire and making his head swim a little. This was better, much better.

But there was another pain, he couldn't dull with the liquor. Something deeper, more profound. It was Harmony's words and the thoughts he had added to them. His thoughts about Buffy and what little chance he would ever have with her.

He had never giving that a thought until now. And with the thoughts came the desperation, the certainty that she would never ever returned what little attraction he felt for her. There was nothing he could give her, no place he could show her. He was bound to a damn wheelchair, he was totally useless no matter how hard he tried not to let these thoughts overwhelm him.

With an almost insane giggle he looked down at the knife on the table.

You can stand in whatever queue you want. It can be the shortest in the whole grocery store. When you have little time or are already late you have to wait in the longest line, no matter what you do.

Buffy tapped her foot on the floor, trying to keep her mouth shut over some nasty words she was going to throw at the old lady in front of her. Why do old people always have to count out every coin twice? Was that their way to torture the oh so impolite youth? She would bet on it.

Spike would be mad. Or maybe he had already died from hunger. Buffy would if she had to wait any longer.

The croissants' aroma drifted through the plastic bag and her stomach growled again. She was craving this breakfast. Nice food and a strong coffee. That's why she usually hated to have breakfast at other people's home. When you were there you were already starved half to death. She should have told him to come over to her place.

Next time, she reminded herself. Next time you'll have him come over.

The blade was itching his fingers. Just like last time.

You just gotta pull through, Spike, that's all there is to it. Just take the bloody knife and put an end to it. Nobody will miss you anyway. You're just another number in the statistics, another burden taken of societies shoulders. And you don't have to bear all that pain anymore.

The tip of the blade pierced he skin of his fingertip, blood whaled up against his pale skin and glistened weakly in the dim light that came from outside. Sun was already up outside but it wasn't strong enough to light the apartment. Some birds were chirping, mocking him.

He took a shuddering breath and set the blade against his wrist. The cold metal felt like a shard of ice against his hot and sweaty skin.

No… this would take too long. The heart… the heart was better.

Buffy stormed down the street, ranting under her breath about how stupid some people could be and why they always had to cross her way. Her hair was whipping in the chilling fall breeze and she drew her jean jacket a little tighter around her body.

She should have asked her mother to give her a ride, since Joyce wouldn't let her take the car on her own. This would have gone a lot faster and she wouldn't have to hurry so much.

But maybe he was still sleeping, she tried to calm herself down. Maybe he forgot about this and she was hurrying for nothing. With that in mind she slowed her step a little and took a long breath to steady her pulse a little.

The painkillers he had taken made his whole body almost numb. His head swam in a sea of alcohol, drugs and grieve. Nothing around him really mattered anymore, he wasn't aware of much.

He didn't feel how the blade of the knife pierced the skin of his chest right above the heart. The slight twinge of pain didn't matter, it wasn't there, it almost tickled. Blood whaled up from the wound and slowly trickled down his chest and it didn't matter.

His head rolled back and he hissed as he finally struck some kind of nerve and the pain shot down his body, down his arm and made the knife waver in his hand.

No, he would pull through this time. It had to end. Now.

Buffy shook her long mane out of her face and jammed the key into the lock. She didn't bother to take the elevator. That small thing was creeping her out and the stairs up to the second floor weren't much of a problem. She was late anyway and those few seconds wouldn't matter anyway.

She carefully knocked on the door before she started unlocking Spike's apartment door. Since she'd almost run into him when he came out of the shower, she was more than careful not just to rush into the apartment like it was her's.

"Spike? You up?" she called into the room but didn't get an answer. Maybe he was still asleep and wouldn't even notice how late she was.

Everything rotated in front of his eyes and he couldn't decide weather it was from the whiskey or the painkillers or the deep cuts in his chest. It all blurred together in a not very delightful mixture of thrill and pain.

The alcohol made him dizzy, the painkiller numb and the wounds brought back a little reality. The pain made him think clearer for a few seconds but it didn't help much.

With an exhausted sigh, he thumbed his hand with the knife down on the table. The sudden impact made his hand twitch and he lost his grip on the knife's hilt and it clattered to the floor.

Brilliant, just brilliant.

Spike moved back from the table, the liquor still in his hand, and rolled over to were the blade had landed. Slowly, he bent forward to pick it up again but suddenly, dizziness swept over him, engulfed him with all it's might.

His eyes flickered shut and fresh sweat broke out on his forehead. He blinked several times and tried to focus on the knife right in front of his hand.

The shift of his body's point of gravity caused the wheels to move backwards and it slipped away from under him. With a loud thud he hit the floor and missed the blade just by a hair's breadth.

Coughing up something you didn't want to have a closer look at in the morning, he rolled on his back and tried to realize what just happened. Right, he had fallen out of his wheelchair and there was no way to get back in it under his conditions. So he would have to stay on the floor until the end and that was close. He knew it.

His head felt as if wrapped in cotton wool, his heart pounded in his chest and his stomach churned with the mixture of booze and drugs. This wasn't what he had wished it to be like, but he would have to deal with now. There was no way back.

Another insane giggle bubbled up his throat. He didn't know what was so funny about all this, he just had to laugh, had to laugh about his own misery. He couldn't even off himself with grace. It was a shame.

That thought in mind, everything else went dark.

"I know I'm late but it so wasn't my fault. There was this old lady in the grocery store and she…" Buffy stopped dead in her tracks and dropped the bag of croissants and her keys.

There he was, sprawled on the floor. His wheelchair stood about three feet away, a spilled bottle of whiskey lay beside his right hand and huge kitchen knife just out of arm's reach. Dark blood had welled up against his bare chest from zig-zagging cuts above his heart and something white and greenish had bubbled up from his mouth. And he didn't move. She wasn't even sure if he was breathing. For a few seconds she just stared ahead until she snapped out of her shock.

"Spike? God!" she stormed towards his unmoving form on the floor and fell to her knees. "Spike? Can you hear me?"

She didn't know what to do. A million thoughts rushed threw her mind and none at all at the same time. Everything was blank and she was panicking. Her hands were shaking violently as she tried to feel for his pulse. She dropped his hand once before she could force her fingers around his wrist. Nothing, she didn't feel anything.

"No, no, no, no…" It was like a mantra she repeated over and over when she reached for his throat. This couldn't be, he couldn't just…

Her fingers brushed the skin right under his chin and her heart skipped a beat when she felt the weak but steady throb of his pulse against her fingertips.

"Spike? Can you hear me?" she asked again and slapped him lightly on the cheek. Nothing.

His eyes were rolled back and under his half open eyelids only white glistened in the dim light.

"Don't do this to me, okay?" she pleaded. Her brain had switched into auto pilot. She didn't know what she was doing but she had to do something. With shaking hands she reached for her purse, turned it upside down and fished for her cell phone.

"H-hello? My... my name is Buffy Summers. I…." her voice broke off, she didn't know what to say. She didn't know what had happened here. Plus she had never called 911 before.

"Miss? Are you still there?" the voice on the other end answered.

"Yeah, I'm. .I don't know... I need an ambulance."

"What happened, Miss? Can you be more specific?"

"I don't know..." everything was spinning in her head and she closed her eyes, trying to focus. "My friend's sick." she said finally. "I need help."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"No, I... I just got here and found him. I don't know what happened. There's... there is blood and..."

"Give me your address, Miss. We will send somebody."

Buffy gave the address of Spike's apartment and the woman on the other line tried to calm her down. Help was on the way and she should try to stay calm.

Stay calm? How should she stay calm?

Suddenly, Spike coughed one of those unhealthy coughs and the greenish whatever bubbled up from his mouth. Fresh blood welled up from his chest.

"God, Spike. What…" Buffy tried to cover the wound with her hand. The warm blood stuck to her fingers and she felt his heart pounding against her palm.

As his head rolled to one side again, she slapped him in the face once more. "Try to stay awake, okay? Help is one the way. Just... try to stay awake."

He coughed again, trying to shake her hand away but she held on to (his) chin.

"What did you do?" she tried to get him to talk or to listen to her, whatever would keep him awake.

"Tried…" he croaked, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

"What? Spike, talk to me, okay? Don't get unconscious again. Help will be here soon."

"Tried…" he started again. "Tried... to cut... it out."

"What?" Buffy didn't know if she had heard him right or if she was hallucinating. "Tried to cut what out?"

As an answer, Spike's fingers closed around her wrist of the hand she'd place over his heart. His head rolled to one side and he opened his eyes a little bit more, seeing her for the first time.

Another minute passed in which Buffy could just stare at him. His eyes had flickered shut again but she still felt his heart thumping against her hand. The rhythm was slow but steady.

Suddenly, the bell rang. Buffy had to tear herself away from Spike, stumbled to her feet and hit the button of the intercom in the hall.

Two ambulance men rushed past her into the apartment.

"Miss, you call us?" one of them asked, his tone harsh but his eyes shone with kindness.

"Yeah, I..."

"Mike! Over here!" the other called from the living-room.

Buffy leaned against the wall opposite the door and watched the two men working. Everything they said seemed to be some strange language she didn't understand. Their voices buzzed in her head but nothing seeped through into her brain.

She didn't even notice one of the men running down the stairs again and returning with a stretcher. It was all too far away.

You don't get prepared for situations like that.

You don't expect to come into your friend's apartment and find him sprawl on the floor almost dead.

And there is nothing that can prepare you for situations like that. You can think about it a thousand times but when it really happens, everything you ever thought about goes to hell. You don't know what to do, don't know what to say. Everything happens at the same time and nothing at all.

That was what Buffy felt that moment. She didn't know what it was at first but when reality kept creeping into her mind, she knew what it was. Helplessness.

Buffy sat in the ambulance. The guys named Mike right beside her. He explained to her what they did and what needed to be done at the hospital but she wasn't listening.

All that mattered right now was that she was holding Spike hand in her own bloodied palm. She was chewing on her lips and tried to force back tears.

'Please, don't die. Don't die.' was all she could think of. There wasn't much more she could do right now but it had to be enough.


	19. Scrubs

Spinning the Wheel 18 - Scrubs

Buffy was about to pace a trench in the linoleum floor of the waiting area. She had wrapped one of her arms around her lean form as if she was cold and was chewing on the fingernails of the other hand. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was about to explode with nervousness.

She walked up and down the sterile room for about half an hour now and excactly nobody had come and talked to her. She had tried to ask one of the nurses but they were all extremely busy.

Buffy couldn't blame them. Being at the ER and all. She just wished somebody would come and tell her what happened. Maybe it was just some weird tactic to scare her away so they wouldn't have to explain to the stupid little blond girl who was worrying her eyes out about the friend who had almost died on the living-room floor.

"Buffy?"

The blonde wiped around to see Willow and Tara coming through the door towards her.

"God, I'm so glad you're here." she pulled her friends into a tight hug. A small wave of relief washed over her to see some familiar faces. She had called her best friend after five endless minutes of waiting.

"What happened?" Willow asked, pulling Buffy towards a small group of uncomfortable plastic-chairs which actually weren't manufactured to waiting more than ten minutes.

"I don't know, I…" Buffy sighed and buried her face in her shaking hands. "I went over to Spike's place. We were going to have some breakfast together. I was late cause I took a tad too long shower and when I got there..." she broke off as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Willow looked at her friend with a mixture of concern and helplessness. Tara ran her hand soothingly over her friends shaking shoulder.

"I don't know what he did. He was just... he just lay there. A knife beside him... and a liquor bottle. And there was blood."

"Have you heard from the doctor yet?" Willow asked, stroking some stray strands of hair out of Buffy's face.

"No. Nobody talks to me. I'm not a family member so they're all hush-hush about it. I don't know." she sobbed again, picturing the worst that could have happened.

"But you told them that he doesn't have any family around, didn't you?"

"Of course. I mean... I found him, right? I just want to know if he…" she broke off again, her eyes wide with the possible thought.

"Oh no, sweetie... don't think that, okay? He's going to be alright." Willow tried to sound convinced but she couldn't quite manage it.

"Miss... Buffy Summers?" A male voice called into the waiting area about another 30 minutes later.

"Yeah… yeah, that's me." Buffy scrambled to her feet, facing a young dark haired man in hospital scrubs. She knew him. It was that med-guy she had that tiny crush on about half a few months ago.

"Hi, my name is... I know you, don't I?" he smiled at her, forgetting his task for a moment.

"Yeah, we had a class together at college. You're Ben." she said against her better judgement. She desperately wanted to know what happened to Spike and not have small-talk with a classmate.

"Yeah... that's me." he smiled again and look down at the clipboard in his hand. "You came in with… William Rayne?"

Buffy nodded. "What's wrong with him? Is he..." she couldn't say it. She couldn't even think of saying it.

"Oh... don't worry. He's alive." he chuckled a little, as if it was a joke. "We gave him some sedatives, he's asleep now."

"What... what was wrong with him?" she asked again. Why couldn't the guy just deal the information and stop with the sweet talk.

"Buffy... may I call you Buffy?" The blonde nodded. "I'm afraid to tell you that I suppose your friend tried to kill himself."

Buffy's face fell. That was something she hadn't expected. She hadn't even given that a second thought. "What?" she sank down on one of the chairs again. "How... did you figure?"

"After our first examination that was pretty clear. We had to empty his stomach because we assumed a heavy poising."

"Please... don't give me the med-stuff." Buffy's eyes narrowed. Now, someone was finally talking to her and that guy had to impress her with his knowledge.

"I'm sorry. It's a habit." Ben shrugged and smiled shyly. "You're friend took a heavy amount of painkillers, plus his blood-alcohol was sky-rocketing. And strong medication and booze don't go very well together. And there are the cuts on his chest. He didn't loose as much blood to cause critical condition but the cuts are deep, about 15 stitches all in all."

Buffy sat there in silence. Her thoughts were racing about the facts Ben had given her in rapid succession.

Spike had tried to kill himself. That - standing alone - couldn't be. Okay, so he could be very depressive but considering his state she couldn't blame him. But she had seen him in the last few weeks, they knew each for about three months and she had never thought about any suicidal attitudes. That just wasn't him. He would rather sit there brooding but he would never try to kill himself.  
There was no reason.

"Buffy? Are you alright?" Ben asked, putting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"What?" she snapped up from her thoughts. "Yeah... I'm okay. I'm just trying to understand, that's all. Can I... can I see him?" she asked, a hopeful glitter in her eyes.

"As I said, he's asleep now. And I don't think he'll wake up for another 12 hours. We put him to rest so his system can heal from the massive breakdown the painkillers and the alcohol have caused."

"I don't want to talk to him. I just want to see him." she snapped and Ben flinched a little.

"Okay." he nodded hesitantly. "But just one at a time." he pointed at Willow and Tara who were still sitting behind Buffy.

"We'll wait here." Willow nodded with a small smile as Buffy followed the wannabe-doctor.

"I've never seen her so worried." Willow sunk back in her chair, crossing her arms over her belly.

"Well, you aren't in a situation like this every day." Tara shrugged a little and slowly caressed her lover's though.

"Yeah... I know. And I... I don't mean to sound mean but, I never thought that Buffy could be that worried. I mean..."

"I know what you're talking about, sweetie. I don't know her that well but I get the feeling that she doesn't show such a big amount of emotions all the time." the blonde nodded and smiled at her girlfriend.

The redhead nodded and lowered her head. She really felt bad thinking that her best friend was an emotional ice-block, but thinking about the past it was kind of true.

"I think she's really concerned about Spike." Tara added after a moment of silence.

"Yeah, you're right. She's constantly talking about him, how they went through the lines and what not. And he is about her. You should have seen him yesterday at the premier."

"I'm so sorry I missed that. But I really didn't want to bring my family to the play. They can be... a little impolite sometimes."

"Don't worry, darling. It was... awesome. But I mean the way was he had looked at her when Buffy came to us after the show. It was as if he was… totally in awe. I don't know." Willow giggled girlishly.

"Yeah, I've seen that look on him some time, too. You think he…"

"And Buffy…? I don't think so. I mean… he got this whole handicap and all…"

"No. I don't mean 'that'." Tara ran a hand over her friends hair and smiled generously. "I mean, do you think that he might… have a crush on her?"

Willow considered that for a long minute. "I don't know. I don't know him that well to tell. I don't know what he's been through. As far as Buffy tells me, he doesn't talk about his past very often. So I don't think, he would tell her that either." She shrugged.

"And... there's something on Buffy's side?"

The redhead shrugged again. "If so, she doesn't tell me or she doesn't know herself yet. But I think she really likes him."

Buffy followed the young man down a long hallway. Doors with glass-windows lined the walls to either side. Some of the rooms also had large windows to give a better view on the patient. Only few of the rooms were occupied.

Ben led her down almost to the end of the corridor and pointed towards the room on the right, one with a window.

Buffy stepped forward. She almost felt as if she was expecting to see something horrible and run away screaming.

Spike lay in the only bed in the room, an IV to one side and some other machinery gathered around the head of the bed.

"Can I…?" she pointed towards the room.

Ben nodded reluctantly. "If you make it short. He needs as much rest as he can get now."

Buffy didn't answer. She just pushed the door open and went inside.

The room smelled. Not the real nasty stench kind of thing, it just smelled. It smelled of hospital, disinfectants and other cleansing materials and something she couldn't fathom.  
She had never liked hospitals, seeing her cousin dying in one added another childhood trauma to it.

The blonde stepped up to the bed. Spike was almost as pale as the sheets. Even his platinum blond hair seemed colourful in comparison. He had an oxygen tube running under his nose and the IV needle stuck in the back of his left hand.  
He had some sort of clip on the index finger of his right hand. To monitor his pulse, Buffy assumed, since the machine next to her beeped in a steady but slow rhythm.

She moved carefully although she knew she wouldn't wake him up. She just wanted to please the guy on the other side of the window. She knew that he was watching her so she wouldn't do anything inappropriate.

Slowly she placed her trembling hand on Spike's arm. He felt cold to her touch, almost… dead. But he wasn't. That was good. A stray tear ran down her cheek.

"Hey." she whispered softly. She knew he wouldn't hear her but it felt good to say it. "I'm here, okay? You're going to be alright." she knew it was foolish, she just had to say something, letting him know that she wouldn't leave him alone. If he had really tried to kill himself, she wouldn't want to leave him alone in any case.

"Buffy?" Ben spoke softy not to startle her. "I think it's enough for now."

Buffy nodded even more reluctantly. "Yeah." she followed him out of the room, glancing back at Spikes still form.

"You should go home now. Get some rest, too."

"No. I want to stay here. I don't want to leave him alone." she said in a pleading tone.

"Buffy. You can't do anything for him right now. What he needs is rest. Why don't you get some yourself. It's only for the best."

"No." her tone was hard as granite when she spoke again.

Ben flinched at the harsh words. "Well, why don't you go and get your friend some cloths then?" he offered, trying to smile but failed.

Buffy considered that. Spike would need something to wear when he woke up again. Hospital scrubs weren't very stylish after all. So she nodded with enough hesitation to show Ben that she really didn't like leaving the young man alone.

"Okay. Shall I brink his wheelchair, too, or do you have a spare one here?" Well duh, Buffy. You're in a hospital.

"He's in a wheelchair?" Ben asked incredulously.

"Well... yeah. Did the guys on the ambulance tell you? He had an accident a couple of years ago."

There was a moment of silence between them until Ben finally spoke again. "Well, you don't need to bring one. We have plenty around here, I guess. Not that I'll let him out of that bed so soon but…" he gave her another comforting smile.

"Okay... I'll be back in about an hour than."

Buffy went back to the waiting area. She would be back in less then an hour if she could manage.


	20. Closing In

Spinning the Wheel 19 - Closing In

Buffy entered Spike's apartment for the second time this year and the second she opened the door she had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew that wasn't there but the pictures were too fresh in her mind to ignore them.

Tried to kill himself. Ben's words raced in her mind. She just couldn't believe it.  
She had been with Spike yesterday and he didn't seem like he was going to be slashing his wrists the moment she didn't look. He seemed more happy than in the weeks before. But then, suddenly this woman had appeared. What was her name? Harmony.

Buffy had sensed that something was going on between them the second the blonde had appeared on the doorstep. She should have stayed with them until the woman was gone.  
She could bet that she had her hands in that. Not that she had convinced Spike to go all suicidal all of a sudden but she had something to do with it, Buffy was more than sure of that.

With a sigh she pushed the door close.  
Willow had brought her here and was now waiting downstairs in the car. She didn't want a million people running around in his apartment. She remembered how much effort it had cost Spike just to ask her if she would come over again and to give her the key. It just didn't feel right to her to bring up other people. Even if they were friends.

Clothes. Spike needed some clothes. But were did he keep them? Well, probably a closet but she hadn't seen one. How weird was that?

First she looked in the bathroom for some clean clothes but there were none. What about that door down the hall? She had noticed it a couple of times before but was too shy to ask. Was that his bedroom? If so, could she just go in there and roam through his stuff? Well, he didn't have to know, right?

But as it turned out, the door was locked.  
More weird.

Why would anybody lock their bedrooms? Well, if you had a really heavy paranoia but... why would Spike lock his bedroom door? Was this room even in use? She had seen him folding a blanket on the couch. Was he sleeping there?

Thoughts were circling in her mind. She couldn't puzzle it out. It was a little too much right now.  
Almost suicides and looked bedrooms weren't the stuff she was usually dealing with.  
She would have to ask him about that when he woke up again.

But first she had to find some clothes.

So she went over to his little gym and discovered a pair of almost fresh sweat pants and a t-shirt folded on a chair. This would have to do for now. And she wouldn't want to let Willow wait any longer. Tara had stayed behind at the hospital in case there were some news.

With a last glance back into the apartment, she shut the door behind her and skipped down the stairs. The sun outside shone a little too bright in her eyes as though it was mocking her. The temperature had dropped a little since it was the end of October and a cool wind chilled her a little.  
But still, it was a bright sunshiny day and it just didn't feel right.

Buffy watched the sky for a minute, then went over to Willow's car and got in.

"You got everything?" the redhead asked as she started the engine.

"Guess so." Buffy held up the bundle of clothing she had picked from the apartment. "These were the only clothes I could find. He's bedroom was locked."

"It was what?"

"Yeah, I don't know." she shrugged. "This was the first time I tried that door and it wouldn't open."

"Why would anybody lock up their bedrooms?" Willow asked and frowned but didn't take her eyes off the road. Since Buffy's little accident she drove even more carefully.

"Guess what I thought. I don't know. And I have other things to worry about right now." The blonde's gaze drifted out the window and she watched the houses rush by.

"Do you have any idea why he did that? Trying to kill himself, I mean." Willow struggled to ask but her talk with Tara had shaken up some thoughts.

"No." Buffy's voice sounded more harsh than she had intended. "I mean, you've seen him, right? He didn't seem like he would do that, right?"

"I don't know if you can judge that. I've never talked to anybody who tried to kill himself. I don't know what causes these thoughts."

"God, I wish…" she rubbed her eyes as she felt fresh tears rising. "I wish he would just talk to me. But whenever things come close to his past he just... shuts down. He never talks about his music, his band or his girlfriend. I don't know… what's going on with him." her voice had an almost pleading edge to it and she had to whip away a few tears.

"You didn't ask him about that?"

"No. I couldn't He would know that I checked him out on the internet. That wouldn't be… he would hate me. I can't risk that."

Willow's lips quirked into an almost smile but she hid it from Buffy's view. Yeah, there was something going on between them. Definitely. They were just too blind and too stubborn to see it. But talk with Tara had shaken up some thoughts.

"No." Buffy's voice sounded more harsh than she had intended. "I mean, you've seen him, right? He didn't seem like he would do, right?"

"I don't know if you can judge that. I've never talked to anybody who tried to kill himself. I don't what causes these thoughts."

"God, I wish…" she rubbed her eyes as she felt fresh tears rising. "I wish he would just talk to me. But whenever things come close to his past he just... shuts down. He never talks about his music, his band or his girlfriend. I don't know… what going on with him." her voice had an almost pleading edge to it and she had to whip away a few tears.

Tara stood outside of Spike's room, watching his still form with slightly narrow eyes as if he was supposed to leap out of bed and flee any second.

"Hey." Willow greeted her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"You're already back?" It was more a statement than a question and the blonde smiled kindly.

"Anything new?" Buffy asked a little impatiently. She didn't realize how she clutched the bundle of clothing against her chest and tapped her foot on the floor.

"No, he's still asleep and didn't even stir." Tara confirmed what was all but visible for all of them.

"Okay." Buffy nodded. "You guys don't need to stay here. Just... drive by my moms and tell her where I am. She doesn't have to worry."

"You want to stay here?" Willow asked a little concerned.

"That's the least I can do. I don't… want him to be alone when he wakes up." She knew she was sounding almost like an overly concerned mom who was waiting for her child to wake up from a surgery but it was only true. She didn't want to leave him now.

"Okay. We'll tell your mom then. But if you need anything..." the redhead's voice trailed off.

"I'll give you a call, of course." Buffy pulled her friend into a tight comforting hug.

"Say 'hi' from me when he wakes up, okay?" Tara hugged her, too.

"I will. Thank you guys for coming by."

"Always." Willow gave her a pat on the shoulder and the two women went down the corridor.

Buffy knew that she should have told Ben or another full-fledged doctor about it but she didn't want to waste more time standing about.

So she just pushed the door open and went inside. She laid the clothes on one of the chairs, pulled another close to the bed and sat down.

For a few minutes she was just watching Spike.

It was all so weird, it didn't make any sense. This day had started so great and now she was sitting in the hospital and watching her friend recovering from an attempted suicide. It was as if her world was turned upside down within an hour.

Carefully she pulled the chair a little bit closer to the bed. She hated just sitting there, unable to do anything. So she reached out with her hand and placed it slowly over his.

The second she touched his cool skin, new tears sprung up in her eyes and she had to stifle a sob. Her thumb brushed lights over the back of his fingers.

"Why did you do that?" her voice was hoarse as she tried to whisper against her tears. "Why didn't you talk to me?"

She didn't realize how she started to rant a little. But it felt good just to sit there and talk to him. He wouldn't answer, she knew that, but it didn't feel that bad to see him lying there.  
She was just wondering if he would hear her or feel her touch his skin. He probably didn't but at least she didn't feel that helpless after all.

She had always been the kind of person who needed to do something. She hated just sitting around and waiting for something to happen. Not that she would jump into every available action when she could do something she was there. Especially when her friends were concerned.

Back then when Willow had that big bag childhood trauma of dying pets, she had been there. When Xander had his troubles with his parents again, she had been there. And now she was there again, sitting here, watching Spike sleep.

But still. It didn't make any sense. Why would he do that? Or maybe it had just been an accident, she tried to convince herself. But accidents like that didn't happen. You just didn't take too many pills, mix them up with strong alcohol and cut your chest with a kitchen knife.

Suddenly his croaked words came popping up in her mind. 'I tried to cut it out.' What was that about? He had pressed her hand on his chest, saying that. Had he tried to cut his heart out? That wasn't only horrible, it was one of the worst things Buffy had ever thought about. Why would anybody get such an idea?

They needed to talk when he was stable enough.


	21. Discovery

Spinning the Wheel 20 - Discovery

Buffy didn't know how many hours had passed since she had slumped down in the hospital chair.  
She had her hand still placed over Spike's and was still trying to find more soothing words.  
She didn't do that just to let him know that she was there - he hadn't even stirred in the last few hours - but it was also to convince her that everything was going to be alright, that he would make it.

Some of her words hadn't been that nice. She'd called him a bonehead a couple of times for being so stupid and stubborn. But most of her words had been kind, caring. What if he could really hear her? And what if others could hear her? She would be embarrassed out of her mind.

Suddenly, her stomach quailed in protest.  
Right, she hadn't had breakfast, she hadn't even had a drink yet. She hadn't realized her hunger before but now is was coming down on her full force.  
She had to get something to eat but she didn't want to leave Spike alone.

She had been so caught up in sitting there and watching him that she hadn't noticed that Ben had been watching her through the window in the wall.  
It had taken him a while to gather up his courage to knock carefully on the door and step inside the room.

"Hey." he smiled kindly.

Buffy looked up at him slight surprise and just nodded for an answer.

"I told you I don't appreciate you being here." he told her. He didn't want to jump right into it.

"And I told you I wasn't leaving him alone." she said in a firm tone.

Ben could only nod at that. She had such a resolved look on her face that it wouldn't do him any good to try to convince her.

Buffy held his gaze for a couple of seconds, making her point clear then she turned back towards Spike. Again, her stomach growled in protest and she pressed the other hand against her belly.

"You sound hungry."

"I haven't had breakfast yet." she said in a calm voice, memory of her supposed-to-be breakfast came rushing back.

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon."

"Yeah."

"Buffy... don't jump at my throat when I say this now but… the doctor's coming here any minute, doing his visits. And he really doesn't like people standing about the room when he does that.  
And... since you seem pretty starved... how about I take you to the cafeteria and get you lunch." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "with me."

The blonde took a minute to consider that. She didn't want to go and leave Spike to some doctor she hadn't even talked to until now but she was indeed totally starved.

"Okay." she nodded. She raised slowly, stretching her legs. She gave Spike's hand a light squeeze. "I'll be back soon." she whispered and followed Ben out of the room.

The cafeteria was pretty crowded around lunch time but they finally found an empty table.  
Once she sat, Buffy started wolfing down the plate of paste Ben had insisted on paying for her.

"So…" he began slowly. "You two are pretty close, huh?"

Buffy half nodded, half shrugged at that, chewing on her pasta. What was that question supposed to be?

"How long have you two been together?"

She almost choked but caught herself and swallowed before answering. "What?"

"Since when are you a couple?… If that's... not too personal. I'm sorry, I take this whole psych stuff a little too serious sometimes."

"No..." Buffy raised a hand. "It's okay. We're... we're not together. We're just friends. I... ehm… I kinda crashed into him with my car. We met during the very entertaining Social Service hours."

"That's why he's in the wheelchair?"

"No." Buffy exclaimed. "God, no. That wasn't me. That was three years ago. We just know each for about three month now."

Ben had to stifle the release of relief breath. So that guy wasn't her boyfriend. Not that he would have guessed that a beautiful young woman would fall for that guy but you never knew. But did she have another guy somewhere?

"Buffy... do you know why your friend tried killing himself?" he asked after a while, watching Buffy eat.

"If I knew I'd kick his ass for it. I just…" again, the memory leapt into her mind, seeing him there, seeing the look on his face. "I found him this morning. We wanted to have breakfast together.  
He... seemed okay yesterday. He was with me at the play in college."

"You did 'MacBeth'?" he asked surprised.

"Got me there, yeah." she blushed a little. "I walked him home, made the appointment for this morning and you know the rest of the story." she tried to hide that she was close to tears again.

"Did you know that he was talking painkillers?"

"I saw them in his bathroom once but... I didn't ask him about that and he... he doesn't talk about that stuff."

"We... ehm... we made a drug screening and it was pretty clear that he had taken them over a long period of time now, in increasing amounts. And not just the light stuff to numb a migraine."

Buffy sat there over a minute, trying to comprehend. This conversation took a whole different turn.  
She hadn't expected Ben to tell her all this but besides that - and that was a lot worse - she hadn't expected Spike to NOT tell her. She couldn't deny that sharp little pang of anger in her heart, she felt betrayed, disappointed and hurt that he wasn't talking to her about this.

He himself had said it was good to talk to someone so why didn't he? That wasn't making any sense. And the urge to talk to him grew to a necessity. Too bad that she couldn't yell at him when he woke up because the more she thought about it the more angry she became.

"Buffy? You okay?" Ben tried to look her in the eyes and she snapped out of her thoughts.

"What?" she looked at him, a little startled. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just... he didn't tell me about that and I'm... disappointed, that's all." she sighed and dropped her fork onto the half-empty plate. She wasn't hungry anymore.

"I'm sorrry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought that you might want to know that." he said, an honest expression on his face.

"Yeah… thank you." she mumbled. She had lost every interest in the conversation. All she wanted was to talk to Spike. Finally. But it would still take hours for him to wake up.

Those hours passed. Buffy still sat in the chair beside that bed, her legs drawn beneath her. But she kept her hands to herself this time. Disappointment and anger went hand in hand inside her.

She was very disappointed that he didn't talk to her and it drove her to anger. But she was also angry at herself for having these thoughts right now. He had tried to kill himself and she was angry. It was just too weird.

A careful knock on the door startled her and she looked up, only to see her mother standing outside the room with the typical maternal concern on her face.

Buffy leapt out of her chair - happy to see another familiar face - and left the room to pull Joyce into a tight hug.

"God, Buffy. I was so worried when Willow told me you were at the hospital. I almost feared the worst." her mother mumbled into her hair.

"No, mom. I'm okay." she hugged her even tighter. It felt good to see her and to hold her for a moment. She was drained from the hours of waiting and not knowing what to do.

"What happened?"

Buffy filled her mother in on what had happened that day. The woman's eyes were wide with shock. "God, that's so horrible. I mean… he looked okay yesterday."

"I know." Buffy gaze drifted back to Spike in the room. He was a riddle. A god damn riddle on wheels.

"Buffy, do you want to come home? It's late." Joyce patted her daughter's shoulder comfortingly.

"I'd rather stay here." the blonde said, her voice almost a whisper.

"But you don't look so good yourself. How about I take you home and you take a long, hot bath and I bring you back here in the morning. There is nothing you can do right now."

Her mother was right. She was tired and exhausted. Her muscles ached from being curled up on the chair and she was developing some serious headache from thinking. So she nodded finally.

The hot bath was soaking through her muscles and it felt so good.

Buffy leaned her head back against the wall of the bathtub and inhaled the warm, peachy steam from the hot water. After a whole day of being coiled up like a spring she could finally relax a little.  
The day had been hell and this was heaven.

Despite herself, tear started spilling down her cheeks. They just burst out of her as if finally leaning back had opened something inside her.  
She had tried to be strong the whole day, being strong when Spike had been weak.

Buffy covered her eyes with one hand, tried to wash the tears away with the soapy water.  
Her sobs echoed in the bathroom as she sat there, weeping. All the pent up fear came crashing down on her now, it hit her like punches in the stomach.

He had almost died today. If it hadn't been for her, he would still lay there on his living-room floor. The thought about that made her only cry harder until she thought she would never stop.

After about half an hour of weeping and sobbing, her tear finally subsided. The water was getting cold, so she stood and wrapped her fluffy towel around her.

Her room was comfortable warm as she slipped into her pj pants and a plain white top. She curled into her bed, wrapping the blanket around her. But sleep wouldn't come. Instead, she shed a few more tears silently into her pillow.

Spike awoke a little more than two hours after Buffy had left, almost at the same time as she sat in her bathtub, crying.

The room was dark expect the yellow light of a night-lamp over his head. A constant beeping sound pulled him back into reality. His head pounding as if someone was having his wicked way on a kettle-drum. His stomach felt like a lump of cold wax inside his belly and his knees were like jell-o. He couldn't move his arms nor his head.

For several minute he just lay there, tried to get his brain into function again.

He was awake. He was not dead. He had failed. Again.

As he felt his moveable part of his body respond to his will, he carefully raised one hand and felt the twinge of the IV-needle in the back of his hand. Then, after another gathering of strength and will, he lifted his head, tried to ignore the pounding, and looked at his surroundings.

Hospital, he recognized it. He was at a hospital again. There was probably nothing he hated more than hospitals. Too long had he been trapped in one to love them.

Just at the corner of the shadow the lamp overhead cast into the room, he saw the pile of clothing on one of the chairs. His clothing. The other chair was pulled close to the bed, down by the other hand that wasn't responding so well yet.

Someone must have been there, someone must have brought him clothes. Someone. Buffy. Of course, it had to be. She was the only one with a key and he fairly remember her being there at his apartment right before he blackened out again.

Had she been here, too? At his room, beside his bed?

Somewhere, stuffed back in his mind, he knew that she had been there. He had felt her presence, had felt her hand on his, even though he couldn't picture it. It was weird. He hadn't seen it, hadn't consciously felt it but he knew that she had been there with him, the whole day. As if some kind of instinct was telling him so.

It was assuring on one hand. But almost impossible on the other.

Why would she care so much? What reason did she have to stay at his bed for hours? Why did she even call the damn ambulance in time?

Tears stung his eyes as the thoughts crept back into his mind again. They were like some sort of taint inside him, staining him, not letting him free no matter how hard he tried.  
They had been there since Cecily had humiliate him about ten years ago. Her words were like a scar on his soul, something that wouldn't heal despite the time that passed. And when Harmony had left him, she had torn the wound open again, making it bleed and stain the sheets again.  
And the exact same thing had happened yesterday. With a clawing words, she had ripped this vulnerable part into shreds.

He wasn't good enough for them, never had been and would never be. That was all he could think of right now.

Useless. Worthless. Beneath.


	22. Empty

Spinning the Wheel 21 - Empty

Buffy entered the hospital with her hands clamped over her purse. She had drawn this out as long as she could and now it was almost late afternoon. She knew that Spike had probably been awake since that morning and that she had to visit him but for some irrational reason she was afraid of seeing him.

She knew that they had to talk; after what had happened it was inevitable. And she wanted to talk about it. She needed to know what had driven him into killing himself. Or at least trying to. She wanted to ask him so many questions but she also knew that she couldn't.

There were things she knew but couldn't talk about or he would find out that she had looked him up. She didn't want to risk that since he was unstable enough at the moment.  
But when she talked to him now, something might slip.

That, and the things he might tell her, scared her a little. That was what had kept her away almost the entire day. She had sat in her room, thinking about what had happened and what might have been the reason for it. But she couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation.

So her mother had finally dropped her off and now she stood in the hallway of the hospital.

The way to Spike's room seemed longer than before as if it stretched out before her with every step she took.

The room seemed brighter than the day before, more lit.

For about a minute she just stood outside the window, watching him. Spike lay on his side, facing away from the door, and seemed to be asleep. At least he had moved since she'd been there last. That was something.

Carefully, Buffy entered the room and let the door slip shut. She didn't want to startle him, so she padded on silent feet over to the bed.

"Spike?" she asked quietly.

No reaction. He didn't even flinch.

A little hesitantly, she placed her hand over his, which was resting on his hip. It was warmer than before but she still felt a little awkward touching him. The other day he had been unconscious and she wanted to let him know that she was there and now it somehow felt strange. She couldn't explain the feeling that was coursing through her, but it was there nonetheless.

"Spike?" she asked again. "You awake?"

Still nothing.

With a curious frown, she pulled her hand back and stepped around the bed, only to find him totally awake. Now that was strange.

He lay there on his side, one hand on his hip, the other under his head, and was staring ahead with pale blue eyes.

"Hey. You're awake. Why didn't you say anything?" she asked, her voice a little more cheerful than before... but she had the sinking feeling that something was wrong. And when he didn't answer, the suspicion grew.

His eyes didn't seem to focus on anything; he almost looked as if he was blind. They weren't as blue as usual, just a much paler shade, and they were massively bloodshot as if he'd cried all day. But there wasn't any emotion showing in them.

Usually, Spike's eyes were full of life and whole lot of other expressions, whether it was anger, joy or sadness. It was in plain sight in his eyes as if projected on a screen. He couldn't hide anything. Just one look and you knew if he wanted to laugh or yell at you.

But today… there was nothing. They were totally blank of expression. As if somebody had switched off a light, leaving everything inside in darkness.

And that was what scared Buffy more than anything. He looked as if somebody had drained the life right out of him, leaving nothing but emptiness.

"Spike?" she asked for a third time, her voice shaking with something best described as fear.

It was then that she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up from her friend's still form.

Ben stood in front of the glass window, watching her, and he waved to come out when she looked up at him. With a last glance down at Spike, she retreated from the bed and left the room.

"Hi, Buffy. I didn't know you were here again." the young man gave her one of those kind doctor-smiles.

"How long has he been awake?" she asked right away, ignoring his weak attempt to flirt with her.

"Since last night." Ben immediately dropped back into his medical-routine as he realised that Buffy had other things in mind just then. "One of the nurses went to check on him a few hours after you left. He was awake and could move again, but he wouldn't talk to her. Or any of the other nurses. He's been like that since breakfast was served."

"He doesn't talk to anyone?" Buffy asked, her voice shaking a little more. What was wrong with him? The more she got to know, the more it scared her.

"No. Not to me or any other doctor, nor to the nurses. Not a single word, and he didn't eat anything, either. We had to put an extra IV in to supply the necessary vitamins."

Buffy shook her head in disbelief. Two days ago, everything had been alright. And now… she didn't know what was going on now. Spike was behaving like a totally different person, attempted suicide notwithstanding.

"But he's alright, isn't he? Physically, I mean?" she asked, fear now more and more audible in her voice.

"Yeah. His system is back to average standard and when the nurse checked his wounds, they seemed to be okay. We don't have an explanation for why he's almost catatonic. I first thought that he might talk to you, but…" Ben shrugged and pointed through the window at Spike's still unmoving form. "Do you have any explanation?"

Buffy turned, facing the window, and crossed her arms over her chest. She had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling and new tears began to spill down her cheeks. Instead of giving him an answer, she just shook her head.

"Maybe we should consult one of our psychiatrists. We have some good people."

"No." Buffy burst out, her voice suddenly hard as granite. "I mean.. I don't think he would talk to them either. I'm.. I'm his only friend.. sort of. When he talks to anybody, he will talk to me. Maybe… he just needs more time. I don't know." She shook her head again. She didn't know where those determined thoughts came from, but she knew somehow that she was right.

"Okay… if you say so. But we can't help him if he doesn't cooperate with us."

"Just…" Buffy turned around, facing Ben again. "Leave him alone for a while, okay? Do your checks, whatever you need to do, but no psych-guys, please."

Ben nodded. He sensed that any 'but' would be useless with her now.

"Thanks." Buffy smiled. For the first time that day. "I think.. I'll come back to tomorrow and check on him, okay? If anything happens.. call me, will you?"

"Sure. We've got your number."

The blonde nodded, shot a last glance at Spike, then turned and left the hospital.

Ben was watching her on her way. He really liked her and he wouldn't mind asking her out on a date, but something told him that it was useless. There was already somebody else.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely comments. Just keep them coming and you'll get some more of this fic :D being an evil tease Luv ya loads!


	23. Confessions

Spinning the Wheel 22 - Confessions

The next day had brightened up; the sun was shining and it wasn't so chilly anymore. Buffy wore a long-sleeved white shirt with some sort of print on it and a tight, dark blue skirt that went down to her knees along with a pair of high-heeled black boots.

The heels made clicking sounds on the linoleum as she walked down the corridor of the hospital.  
Ben had called her this morning, telling her that Spike had asked for a wheelchair and wanted to get out of that room.

As she reached aforementioned room, she found it empty. The blanket and the pillow were rumpled as if somebody had just gotten up from the bed.

"He's in the yard," said a voice behind Buffy and the blonde whipped around, her breath hitching in her throat.

She found Ben standing behind her, his hands holding a clipboard behind his back. He wore a smile on his lips but had a somehow sad shimmer around his eyes.

"God.." Buffy exclaimed, trying to bring her heartbeat down to a normal speed. "Have you ever heard that it is totally impolite to sneak up on other people?" But she was smiling when she said it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"So he's out of that 'I'll pout like a baby and won't talk to anyone' thing?" It was supposed to sound like a joke but Buffy knew that it wasn't. She'd spent the rest of the previous day thinking about Spike and what might have caused his totally catatonic state. She had no idea. And thinking of the inevitable talk only made things worse.

"More or less. The nurse refused to check on him afterwards but at least he's talking and eating again. That's progress." Ben smiled again. He never stopped smiling, did he?

"Can I see him?" Buffy asked cautiously. Somehow she wished the answer would be no.

"Of course. Come on, I show you the way."

They made their way in silence through the hospital and Buffy was grateful for it. She didn't want to answer more questions she didn't have an answer to. She was here to find those answers.

"There you go." Ben kicked the door to the yard open with his foot and waited for Buffy to go through.

"Thank you." she turned back to the young man and smiled kindly.

"Buffy.. there is something I need to tell you. You might want to know it first."

Buffy's face took on an alarmed look and she turned fully around.  
"What?" Was there something wrong with Spike she didn't know about yet?

"No need to worry," Ben assured her, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's just… we did a couple of tests this morning. After what you told me about his accident and considering the medication he gets, I became a little curious. So I gave it a try and tested the… flow of nerves in his legs. I was checking for any activity. And as far as I can see it.. there might be a chance that he'll be able to walk again. The nerves are rebuilding, but very very slowly. I also think that - with the heavy medication he took - he blocked the process. I can't tell for sure but that's what I think. I thought you should know that."

Buffy stared at him, her mind reeling with the newly gained information. Then, a stupid smile spread across her face. That was a whole new different twist in the story. If he could walk again, then maybe… the thought came to an abrupt halt as she heard herself saying, "Thanks, Ben."

"You're welcome. I wanted to tell him this afternoon but maybe you can now." He smiled again, turned around and disappeared into the hospital.

Buffy watched him for a moment, then turned around and went out into the garden-like yard. It reminded her a little of her old high school, with the trees, the benches, and the fountain in the middle. After a few steps she discovered Spike sitting underneath a tree. He just sat there, staring down at the paved path, and the sun shone on his face. She hesitated for a moment before she approached him and sat down on the bench beside him.

"Hey." She tried to smile but failed; the memories were too fresh to laugh about.

But he didn't answer. Just like the day before, he turned away from her. She saw the muscles in his jaw flexing as he set his mouth in an angry line.

Buffy frowned for a moment, but more than confusion, she felt a pang of disappointment. She had so many questions and no answers. He hadn't talked to her when he had the chance to and considering that they were friends she had every right to be disappointed.

"So.." she began after a while. She had to get him talking or she would go insane with the possibilities that came lurking in her thoughts. "Are you going to talk to me about this or do I have to guess?"

"Leave me alone," he suddenly grunted, but still didn't look at her.

"No." Buffy replied in a calm tone. Not like that, buster.

"I said. Leave. Me. Alone." Now Spike shot her an angry glare from the corner of his eye.

"No." she repeated in exactly the same voice and shook her head slightly. So guessing it was. She was not going to let him through with this. "It's about that woman, right? That.. Harmony?" she asked out of the blue. It was a suspicion, nothing more, but it was something to begin with.

"That's none of your business," he snapped.

That did it. Buffy leapt to her feet, throwing her hands in the air. "God damn it, Spike. It is my god damn business. You made it my business when I found you sprawled on your living-room floor with a very colorful variety of body-fluids decorating you. So don't give me that shit - tell me what the hell is wrong with you." She slumped down on the bench again, burying her face in her hands. Tears stung her eyes. His ignoring her hurt more than anything else. Why wasn't he trusting her with this? "God.. I.. I was so scared. Have you any idea what it felt like? Seeing you there? Not able to do anything? I was so damn scared I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even sleep the night after. But I guess that doesn't mean anything, huh?" She rose again, took her purse, and had started walking away from him when he called after her.

"Buffy?" His eyes still hovered over the ground but at least he had turned towards her. Buffy spun on her heel and looked at him in surprise, her eyes still red with the unspilled tears. "I'm sorry." A cloud of shame slid over his face as he glanced up at the young woman. He wanted to tell her but… he was embarrassed and he couldn't tell her everything. It would probably scare her even more and make her laugh. Both would be the end.

"Tell me about it." Buffy sat down again, her voice wavering a little but it had a warm tone. She wiped a stray tear away and looked at him although he was trying hard to avert her gaze.

"It.." He took a deep breath as if preparing for a long speech. "It.. was about her, she was.. part of it." He hesitated.

"Who is she?" Buffy asked after he didn't continue.

"She's.. my ex. After the accident, they brought me to LA - to a rehabilitation clinic. Harmony.. was a nurse there and for some insane reason she fell for me." Buffy gasped at that. This skanky ho was a nurse? That had to be a joke. "When they let me out, she.. volunteered.. to stay with me, take care of me, get me through the first weeks. But all she really wanted was.. to get in my bed. I.. told her.. that I couldn't…" He made a vague gesture with his hand before he continued. God, this was worse than pulling teeth. "And she left.. telling me that… I was pathetic.. nothing.."

He was close to tears, his voice quivering audibly, but he wouldn't give in. Not in front of her. There had to be that much dignity left for him.

"And when she came back yesterday, her words made a repeato-vision, too, huh?" Buffy asked, staring down at her hands, clutching her purse. Somehow she wished that he hadn't told her. Well, the truth was better than her guessing but.. it depressed her even more. What was that bitch thinking? She would bet anything that this ho hadn't the slightest idea what she was doing or saying.

Spike just nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and absently wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Hm, seems like I'm that pathetic after all." he tried to cover his real emotion with a forced chuckle and a lame joke.

When you believe that, you are, yeah, Buffy almost blurted at him. Her depression had changed into rage all of a sudden. She was angry at that bitch Harmony for strutting around like god's gift and saying those things... it was bugging the hell out of her - just like when you see a bunch of five-year-olds picking on the puppies at the pet store. It makes you really angry although it's just a small thing. But this wasn't even a small thing. And if she could see that woman right now she'd probably kick her ass for it.

"What?" Spike looked up at her, irritated. He could see and almost feel how she tensed up beside him. She was angry. Big time.

"You believed her, didn't you? You believe what she said to you?" Her brows formed an angry line as she looked at him now.

"And why wouldn't I?" he shot back, quirking an eyebrow at her as if it was the most stupid question in the world.

"Huh?" Buffy asked, equally irritated. What exactly was he talking about now?

Spike snorted. "You don't understand."

"Why don't you explain it then?" she asked impatiently. This question-and-answer game was getting exhausting and it made her more and more angry. Why wasn't he just spilling what was on his mind?

"I can't…" he hesitated, looked down at his hands for a moment before his eyes drifted back up to hers again. This was torture. Why was she doing this to him? "See.. like this… I can't.. run after you when we fight. I can't take a walk in the park. I can't crawl into bed with yo… with a woman when I come home. I can't kneel down in front of her.. when I want to marry her.." He couldn't continue and looked away from her, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He could only hope that she hadn't heard his little slip. He had never thought that he would ever tell her or any person on the planet about this but he couldn't deny the slight relief he felt now.

"That's all?" Buffy tried to make her voice sound firm but she couldn't hide her surprise. Not only had he finally told her something but she had indeed noticed the little slip. What was going on here?

"Yeah, that's all. Sorry if there isn't any further depth for you to analyse, I'm as simple as that." Yeah, so he was a hell of a liar. All he wanted to was to cover his god damn insecurity.

"Do you think that matters? All those things? If those are reasons for you to go and kill yourself, than you are as pathetic as Harmony said." He turned to stare at her incredulously but she continued. "Do you think I would be here if I cared about that? Do you think any of this means something?" She couldn't stand his look any longer and lowered her gaze, staring down at her shoes. "I'm here.. cause I care about you, cause I care about… what we.. what we have. Since we met I.. I have changed and you know that as well as I do. I think different about a few things, see them different. I've done things I wouldn't have given a second thought before. Like that play? I wouldn't have made it without you, without what you said. That's what matters to me. You.. matter to me. But if that's not enough…" She sighed deeply and tried to force back her own tears.

Spike looked at her for probably a minute without saying anything. He didn't know what to think. She'd never given him such a speech. Actually, nobody had ever given him such a speech, and he didn't know how to handle it. He had never thought that he would matter to her so much. It warmed up something inside, made him feel good in a way, but at the same it fueled the doubt he had. Why would she care about a guy like him? Why would he matter to her so much? But he couldn't ask her that. It was enough to have to deal with what she just said; he didn't want to dig any further, and he had to try to understand her words himself first.

Despite himself, he reached out and placed a hand carefully on hers, so they were both resting on her thigh now. Her fingers felt cold beneath his and out of sheer reflex, his thumb slightly stroked over the back of her hand.

Buffy tensed up even more beside him and stared at their hands for a moment. She felt his fingers trembling slightly as if he was afraid to touch her, to hurt her.

"Thank you." His voice wasn't more than a whisper and he couldn't gather up the strength to look at her. It was hard enough as it was, but looking into her tear-brimmed eyes would make him want to run away screaming - even if he couldn't do that, actually. "Thank you, for.. staying with and.. for.. everything. I'm sorry that.. you had to go through all this. I.. didn't mean.. to hurt you. I was just…"

"You're welcome." She cut him off. She knew that he hadn't enough energy left to go through with this. She knew it from the way his hand became colder against hers. Despite herself, she turned her hand and entwined her fingers with his, squeezing his hand slightly. "It's okay."

They sat there for a moment in complete silence. Neither of them dared to say a word and break the obvious connection building betweem them, a connection built through understanding and honesty.

"Mr. Rayne? Dinner will be served in ten minutes. If you'll return to your room, please?" A nurse had appeared behind them and they both jumped at her sudden words, their hands slipping apart.

"Yeah, sure." Spike nodded at her, a slow smile on his lips, and watched the nurse go.

"Dinner? It's just 5pm." Buffy exclaimed and stood. She felt a warm blush creep onto her cheeks. They had never been this close before, close not only on the physical level.

"Tell me about it. Hospital rules. Get up early, turn in even earlier." Spike shrugged and pulled back from the bench and onto the paved walk.

Back at his room, he already found a tray with a neatly cut sandwich, a glass of water and a little bowl of green jell-o.

"Great, if some disease doesn't kill you, this stuff will for sure." He snorted in disgust, rolled beside the bed, thumbed down the brakes of the wheelchair and lifted himself up into the bed.

"Yeah, I remember when my cousin was in the hospital. I always brought her chocolate." Buffy sat in the chair that was still standing close to the bed.

"You could bring me some chocolate, you know. Would make my day a whole lot brighter." he smiled at her, the first smile today.

"I'm on it." She returned the smile brightly.

"You want this?" He pointed at the jell-o. "I hate this stuff. I don't know why they serve it to people who are already sick."

"Sure." Buffy grabbed the bowl and the spoon and started wolfing down the wobbly substance. "You know, I think you're getting better pretty fast. You're already complaining again."

"Seems like. I've been in enough hospitals for a lifetime, maybe I have special healing powers."

"Oh!" Buffy's eyes went wide at the mentioning of 'healing'. "There's something you need to know."

"What? Where does all the shock come from now?" He frowned at her.

"Ben.. the doctor told me that you might be able to walk again."

"What? If this if a joke, it's definitely not funny."

"No, I'm not joking. He told me before I talked to you and I.. forgot to tell you. He said that the painkillers you take might block the restoration of the nerves in your legs or whatever. They are rebuilding, slowly, but they are."

"Uh-huh." Spike nodded, staring at nothing for a moment. His mind reeled with the new information. Being able to walk again? That would be…wow.

"Is that all you're saying?" Buffy looked at him expectantly.

"Uh-uh. I mean.. I'm just trying to comprehend. I mean.. they told me that I never.. I just don't want to be too euphoric just now."

"Okay…" she drew out the word. She couldn't deny that she was a little disappointed about his lack of reaction. Even she was happy and she had no idea what it must feel like.

He ate in silence for a while. If he could walk again.. that would add a whole other perspective to about everything. He could go back to his band, play concerts, get famous, he could even have a girlfriend again. He could live again. But it was way too early to dream about anything like that. He didn't want to have any hopes about something huge like that, he would be even more disappointed if it didn't work out in the end.

"You know what? I guess I'll head home. I still have some nasty homework to do." Buffy stood after a while.

"Will you.. be back tomorrow?" he asked carefully, taking a sip from the stale water.

"Sure. I'll try and sneak in some chocolate." She beamed at him. "Thanks for the jell-o and.. goodnight."

"Are you making fun of me?" he tried to mock-glare at her but failed.

"A little." she giggled girlishly. "See you tomorrow then." She turned on her heel and left the room.

It was still warm outside when she left the hospital. What had happened between them today? She had probably given him the speech of her life; she wasn't used to being so honest and it scared her a little. And the way their fingers had been entwined, the way they looked at each other..

It was all a little bit too much. She couldn't quite understand any of it, any of her feelings. She just knew that it felt good, too good.

Spike flipped through the programs the hospital-TV was offering him but nothing really caught his attention.

He could still feel her little warm hand against his palm. Despite himself, he raised his hand. He could even smell her soap on it, clouding his mind a little. The connection he had felt before, what was that?

Not that he wanted to question it any further right now, he just knew that it felt incredibly good, like a warm comforting blanket. He knew that he would sleep well tonight. Maybe even with a smile on his lips.


	24. The SleepOver

Spinning the Wheel 23 - Sleep-Over

"You know that I'm not very happy with your decision," Ben said for about the twentieth time that day. He held his clipboard in both hands and watched Spike getting out of the bed into the wheelchair.

"Yeah, you told me once or twice," he grunted. The young doctor was mightily pissing him off with all his smiles and sweet talk. That he had obviously set his sights on Buffy notwithstanding.

The blonde sat in her usual chair watching the men arguing. Two days had passed since they had talked about Spike's attempted suicide. Ever since then he had gotten a lot better and was ready to leave the hospital. Since he had probably been the most annoying patient the hospital had ever had, the nurse had finally agreed to talk to the doctor and now Ben was desperately trying to convince him to stay. But Buffy knew that it wouldn't do any good.

"What about your bandages? You can't change them yourself." Ben tried to verbally slap some sense into his patient but he'd already given up hope.

"Oh, I can do that." Buffy leapt to her feet.

"You?" Spike and Ben asked in unison, both looking at the young woman.

"Ehm.. yeah. I've done a first-aid-course so it can't be that hard." That she wanted to keep an eye on Spike, they didn't need to know right away.

"Well, if that's okay with you…" Ben looked at Spike, who could almost see jealousy leaking out of every pore in the doctor's face.

Spike himself felt a little uncomfortable with the thought that Buffy would be getting that close to him. It was one thing just to talk to her about whatever, but letting her touch him was a whole different deal.

"Yeah, whatever. As long as I can get out of here." he shrugged despite his doubts.

They had an ambulance bring Spike home again, no matter how hard he tried to avoid that. He might be stubborn as hell but that was something even he couldn't change.

"You know that I won't leave you, right?" Buffy asked as they entered the apartment. She'd made sure that every evidence of his attempted suicide had been removed. When she'd picked up a few more things from the apartment, she'd taken the bottle and the knife back into the kitchen and also cleaned the carpet of some nasty stains. She didn't want him to be reminded of that again.

"What?" he asked, a little confused, as he made his way into the living-room. He remembered that night very dimly, only single pictures came rushing back once in a while.

"I'll stay here tonight." she said matter of factly.

"You're what?"

"I said I will stay here tonight. I won't leave you alone again. Plus I need to re-wrap your bandages soon."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to comprehend and to link her words to possible pictures. Her, sleeping here, probably next to him cause the bedroom.. was closed. "Oh you've got to be kidding me." he grunted under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked, a smile was playing around her lips although she tried to hide it. Seeing him squirm like that was just priceless. But she wasn't doing that just to harass him, she wanted to get behind all this, behind what was lurking behind that closed door. There were too many unanswered questions and she wanted the answers as soon as possible. And she knew that he would retreat if she asked them right away.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening had been rather uneventful. The only highlight had been when Spike had tried to manifest his hatred toward doctors and hospitals in the most colourful and British ways, leading to a variety of curses that would make anyone who had the slightest belief in any higher power blush.

The only thing Buffy could do was laugh. It was just most hilarious thing to see him so enraged. But both of them knew that they were only prolonging the inevitable.

"You really need to do that, don't you?" Spike asked, trying to hide his insecurity and fear under a heavy layer of annoyed glances.

"Yeah, I promised Ben, remember?"

"Now you're calling him Ben already?" he tried to glare at her but didn't fully succeed.

"Are you jealous?" she shot back.

"Over a guy who runs around in green pyjamas all day? Not so much, no." Well, maybe a little, his mind added but he didn't say it. Even if he had every right to be jealous, he would never admit it.

"Yeah, right." Buffy quirked an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest, knowing that he was lying. She had seen his looks whenever she had talked to Ben.

"So can we get this over with?" he asked impatiently.

"I'm not the one who's been playing the baby about this all day." Buffy turned and took the bandages Ben had given her from a sterile bag. She could almost feel Spike shooting daggers at her. "Now, strip." She almost giggled at that. She almost sounded like one of those naughty nurses. Just with a more serious attitude towards her work.

When she turned around, she found Spike unbuttoning his shirt. He'd f igured that it was easier for him to wear a shirt he could button up than a t-shirt he had to pull over his head. He didn't want to strain the wound too much.

Again, Buffy was surprised how well muscled he was. There hadn't been many occasions in which she could admire the result of his work-outs so she caught herself staring every time.

"Would you quit the gawking and get to work?" he snapped, a little more impatient than before.

"You know that line is never going to make it off the ground, don't you?"

He just scowled at her for an answer. "Okay, okay. Got it."

With careful hands she started peeling off the bandages the nurse had applied before. Buffy tried to memorize the way she'd wrapped the gauze around his body so she could copy it. When she got the last layer of the cottony material off his skin, her fingers brushed his skin and he winced.

"Come on, it can't be that bad." She stepped away from him, wrapping the gauze into a neat little ball.

Spike happily took her offer to peel off the pad on his chest himself. Her touch hadn't hurt. At all. Quite the contrary, but he didn't want her to know that. He remembered her touching his knees back then and tried to mirror the feeling to his numb legs. He couldn't but still felt awfully good.

"Wow, looks nasty. That's going to leave some pretty scars." Buffy exclaimed in slight surprise when her eyes fell on the various cuts and black stitches. She didn't want to ask why he had tried to cut 'it' out as he had put it. She knew he wouldn't answer.

"Yeah. Cool, huh?" Spike just shrugged, running his fingers over the future scars, careful not to break the skin open again.

"May I? Might be easier and I don't want to run around all the time." she gestured to his knees. Even though he tried to hide it, she saw him flinching.

"Yeah.. won't hurt." he said reluctantly and shifted in his seat a little.

Carefully as if she wanted to sit on a thin branch that was about so break, she lowered her weight down into his lap. She tried to keep most of her weight on her feet though. It felt awkward to be that close to him, but not bad. At all.

"Hold that." she said, businesslike, holding a cottony pad against his chest over the wounds. One of them had started bleeding a little during the day but not seriously.

Spike did as she said, watching her every move as she applied the medical tape at the corners of the pad. She ran her fingers over it to fasten it a little tighter and this time he didn't wince. This time he had to struggle not to react otherwise. Like now, as she was telling him to told the gauze over the pad and leaned into him to wrap the thin material around his chest. He felt her blouse-clad breast brush against his chest and he had to close his eyes at the sensation. He even bit lip in order to stifle any upcoming sounds. He couldn't remember being that close to anyone ever since.. Harmony. He shuddered inwardly at the mere thought of the skanky blonde. She had been close to him, but not like this. It hadn't felt that good.

Buffy moved back and forward slightly, wrapping the gauze around his back and chest in turn and around left shoulder to secure the bandages. Once or twice she caught a glimpse of his face, seeing him with his eyes closed send a shiver down her spine. Was he enjoying this? Like.. enjoy?  
"Bandages applied and secured, patient done." she said in a falsely cheerful tone and reluctantly stood again.

He stayed with his eyes closed for a moment again before he finally glances up at her and then back down at his chest. The bandages were neatly set in place and taped to they would slip. "Thanks." he mumbled, trying to look busy with examining her work before he slipped back into his shirt and buttoned it again.

"You're welcome." she replied, still a little insecure about his reactions, and dumped the used bandages into the trashcan in the kitchen. "So.. how do we do this tonight?"

"Pardon me?"

She saw him blushing a little and it made her giggle. "How do we do this tonight?" she repeated. "With me sleeping here at your place so you won't do anything horribly stupid again."

"Oh.. right." he stumbled. Get your mind out of the gutter... where do these thoughts come from? "I.. I ehm.. sleep on the couch here." he said simply.

"But you.. do have a bedroom right?" Buffy knew that she was on thin ice now. She didn't want him to know that she knew about the locked bedroom and she had to play it careful now.

"Yeah but.. I don't use it."

"Why not?" Careful, Buffy, stay low.

"Cause.. it's too small for me. There isn't.. enough space to move around the bed." he said a little quickly.

She knew that he was probably lying now, too. Why would anybody lock their bedroom just because it was too small? Hell, her closet was bursting because of the load of clothing she stuffed into it and she didn't lock it. That didn't make any sense.

"So.. where do I sleep then? I mean.. I'd be fine with the floor, too. I've had many sleep-overs and my friend's places, so.."

"No.. it's.. we can… pull the couch out so we can.. both.. sleep on it." Spike felt heat crawling up inside him and into his face. Where did all the blushing come from all of a sudden? Was he out of his mind?

"Okay." Buffy shrugged and smiled. Damn it, he wasn't going to tell her one damned thing about the bedroom. And she just couldn't ask, that would be too obvious.

"I'll go and a get a sheet and another blanket and pillow then."

Buffy watched him move into the kitched to retrieve something from one of the drawers and then into the hallway. The key, probably, she noted mentally for later reference. That was strange actually. The bedroom was too small for him to move around but he could get in and pick up stuff. That didn't fit but she had to no time to think further about it because he was back in no time.

The makeshift bed was made in a little more than ten minutes and Buffy plopped down on it. "Hm, more comfortable than I thought." She bounced on it once or twice. "But it's way too early to call it a night."

"But you don't want me to braid your hair or polish your toenails, right?" he asked with mock-suspicion. His former insecurity had vanished almost entirely.

"Why don't we order a pizza or some Chinese stuff and watch a movie or something. I think there is something on tonight."

"I'm voting for Chinese this time. I need something real for a change after almost a week of hospital-food-torture." he was about to break out in another fit of curses but stifled it this time.

The rest of the evening was spent with a heap of Chinese food and a re-run of "The Other Sister" on TV. Buffy had watched the movie before but it touched her every time. Spike had complained once or twice and she had made a note to herself never to force him to watch chick-flicks with her. It was only pissing her off. Sometimes she even had the feeling that he was only doing it to harass her for fun.

"Well.. think I'll go and change for the night." she stood, stretching her legs.

"Yeah, there is.. there's one of my shirts in the bathroom. If you don't…" he broke off, not knowing how to complete the already completely screwed sentence.

"Thanks. I was going to ask that anyway." she beamed at him before she turned and left for the bathroom.

Spike shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the pulled out couch. This was going to be one hell of a night and he had maneuvered himself into it. He had made her play the babysitter for him thanks to his very stupid decision to kill himself. Not the smartest step in retrospect.

When Buffy came back she wore one of Spike's black shirts. It only covered her only to mid-thigh and left a little too much open to the eye, making the young man blush slightly despite himself.

"You gonna stay like that?" she asked curiouly, sitting down on her side of the couch.

"Usually I sleep naked but I thought it to be a tad impolite."

Buffy blushed at that, lowered her gaze.

"Buffy.." he looked her, smiling. "I'm kidding. Yeah, I'll stay like this if you don't mind." He gestured to the pair of cut off sweatpants. "I'll take a shower in the morning and the get the stuff to the laundromat anyway, so…" He shrugged.

"Sure.. whatever." The blonde still hadn't recovered from the joke. She drew her legs beneath the blanket and slipped under it. "You don't snore, do you?"

"Last time I checked no." He shifted into a more comfortable position, covering himself with his blanket.

"Well then…" Buffy propped her head on her hand.

"Yeah." There couldn't possibly be any situation more awkward than this. Spike reached over to switch off the little lamp on the table beside the couch, pitching the room into darkness. Thank the lord she couldn't see him blushing. He'd never felt more uncomfortable and he sure as hell wouldn't get any sleep that night.

"Goodnight." came Buffy's soft whisper after a moment and he could her shifting beside him.

"Night." This was hell. He must have died and went straight to hell. Sleeping beside her.. it was just too much. He remembered her words from that day in the hospital and it was choking him. Being that close to her was torture and he couldn't quite explain why.

About three hours passed and Spike still couldn't sleep. He lay on his back, his hands steepled behind his head and he was staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what was happening to him and between him and the girl who was sound asleep beside him.

Sometimes he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noting how her nose twitched slightly or how her hair was fanned out on the pillow. Or how her mouth was slightly agape. She was really pretty even when she was sleeping and she was making the most adorable little noises.

Hey.. hold on... What are you thinking? Spike frowned at his own thoughts, pushing them back into the far corner of his mind.

Suddenly, Buffy whimpered and turned on her back, tossing her head to the other side and she mumbled something inaudible. He turned his head towards her. Her face was twisted into a mask of fear and disgust, her eyesbrows twitching and he could see her eyes rolling beneath their lids. She was having a nightmare and a big one.

With a sudden yelp she said up straight, swinging her legs over the side of the couch away from him. She was breathing hard with a little whimper on the exhale. Her hands clutched the blanket against her chest and she was shivering all over.

Spike sat up, too, drawing his weight beneath him. He watched her for a moment, not knowing what to do. He might startle her if he talked to her but he had to something. So he carefully reached out and touched her shoulder, light as a breath. But Buffy flinched and her breath hitched in her throat.

"Buffy?" he asked quietly. "You alright?" He shifted a little closer, trying to look into her face.

"What?" her voice was full of panic as her head whipped around and she stared at him, her eyes wide as plates.

Spike could only look at her for a moment. He'd never seen her like this, so scared and fragile. And somehow it scared him, too. She was such a strong girl and seeing her being so terrified… it must have been a really bad dream.

"You were having a nightmare." he said slowly, stating the obvious, and she nodded jerkingly.

She was still shaking and out of sheer instinct he began rubbing a little circle on her shoulder with his thumb. That seemed to relax her a little and slowly her breathing went back to normal.

"You want to talk about it?" his eyes were full of concern.

Buffy stared at him for a moment, then swung her legs back onto the couch and leaned against the back of it, still sitting upright. She drew her legs as close to her body as was humanly possible. She swallowed a couple of times before she could talk.

"I've had that dream since… I was little. Whenever I think it's gone it comes back full force."

Spike shifted into a sitting position himself so he could look at her. "What is it about?"

"Death." she replied simply, her eyes getting wide again.

"Death?" he repeated, a little stunned.

"Yeah." she breathed. "When I was eight, my cousin Celia.. she got sick. We've always played together. I was.. Supergirl and always saved her." she smiled at the memory. "But then.. she went to the hospital. I came to visit her everyday and than, one day, I… I saw her dying. She was.. in so much pain and I had to just stand there and watch her die." Her chin started to quiver and new tears welled up in her eyes. "And I couple of months ago.. my mom got sick. I don't know if she told you about it but.. she had a tumor and… almost died. She's fine now but…"

There was silence between them, stretching out into half an eternity. Spike was just looking at her, his mind reeling with the newly gathered information. "You're afraid of death.." his voice was nothing more than a whisper. "You're afraid of death cause you can't fight it."

"Yeah." tears rolled down her cheeks but she didn't bother to wipe them away. "Some nights.. when I close my eyes.. I feel like I won't wake up again and I.. start thinking about dying, how it will be.. if I can feel it. And it scares me so much." She sobbed and swallowed hard. "And it follows me into.. my dreams. I dream of.. my cousin, my mother.. and they.. they are dead."

He could only stare at her. Finally it dawned on him why she had been so afraid when he had been at the hospital. It must have been like a travel back in time to see her cousin die in front of her eyes.  
Suddenly he felt even more sorry for what he'd done. He hadn't known and even if he had he would have done it anyway but still…

As if through a thick haze of thoughts he watched Buffy shifted under the blanket again, lying down on her side.

"I don't think it'll come back now." she said as if she'd been through this a couple of times before, as if going through some well-known motions.

He settled down beside her, his head resting on his arm and he watched her intently. "You sure?"

She nodded weakly, swallowing some new tears, and sniffled a little. But then she looked away in embarrassment, as if something was on her mind and she didn't dare to say it. "Can.. can you hold me?" she didn't look at him, it would have been too much.

For a long moment, Spike just stared at her. Was he dreaming? Or did she actually ask? Not that it was something utterly offensive or anything, he just couldn't comprehend properly. Despite himself, he shifted into a more comfortable postion, stretching out his arm. "Come here."

Buffy snuggled against him, resting her head on his arm and trying to avoid the neatly wrapped bandages around his chest. Carefully his hand closed around her shoulder. She seemed too fragile to his touch, as if she was about to break when he fastened his grip.  
She laid one hand on his stomach and rubbed her leg against his. He knew it was there; he could feel the soft pressure but nothing more.

He couldn't remember having a woman this close to him and what it felt like. Her tiny body was radiating against him as if she was about to burn his skin. Her hand on his stomach drawing nonsense patterns on the thin material of his t-shirt. He could smell the faint scent of vanilla and peaches coming from her hair brushing against his arm and neck.  
He closed his eyes against the sensation of having her so close to him. It was new and familiar at the same time. It was the strangest feeling and the very best he ever had. He was almost close to crying himself. Feeling her right there in his arms and knowing at the same time that it would never be more than that.


	25. Morning After

Spinning the Wheel 24 - Morning After

Buffy awoke when the sun fell through the slits in the curtains onto her face. She crunched her face, trying to shut the annoying rays out but it was too late. She was already too awake to find sleep again.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes and tried to remember where she was. Yeah, right.. Spike's place. They had slept on the couch. She had a nightmare and the last thing she could remember was him holding her in his arms.  
Slowly she blinked her way back to reality and raised her head carefully. She lay on her side again and Spike seemed sound asleep beside her. He had his back turned towards her, so she couldn't see his face.

With a little sigh she turned on her back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. She could still feel the heat of his body against hers, his hand on her shoulder and how his fingers had rubbed nonsense patterns on her arm. Usually it was hard to sleep again after the nightmare but this time she had felt more relaxed than ever. To be held, to know that there was somebody right beside her, had given her the strength to sleep again.

Buffy heard him shift beside her and watched how he turned onto the other side, facing her. He had one arm curled under his head and the other hand clutched the blanket tightly. A smile drifted across her face. He had probably never looked any sweeter than now. His hair was a rumpled mass of platinum curls that fell slightly onto his forehead and he looked almost peaceful, something she didn't see very often.

But the picture was ruined when his face twisted into something different. She couldn't quite fathom what it looked like but it disturbed the peace. The muscles in his face were twitching and he clutched the blanket even tighter.

"No..that's not.. no." he mumbles almost inaudible.

Was he having nightmares now? Buffy watched him with some sort of horrid fascination. She didn't want to wake him although she probably should. But something inside her urged her not to.

Ever so slowly, she rose from the couch. He stirred when she got to her feet and turned on his back, his face now relaxed again. Maybe just a bad moment, nothing serious.

Trying hard to make no sound she padded into the hall and in the bathroom. When she was done and washed her hands she watched herself in the mirror for a moment. What was going on here? Between them? Images of last night came back, the way he looked when she'd changed the bandages or when they had settled down for the night. The concern on his face when she had told him about her nightmare, the slightly startled looked when she'd asked him to hold her and they way his body felt beside hers.

She couldn't fathom what it was that they had. It was so.. twisted and there were still some things he wasn't telling her.

Now that he was sleeping.. maybe she could get into the bedroom. She'd watched him yesterday, how he'd retrieved the key from the kitchen. She knew too well that it was impolite to almost break into this room but when she wanted answers she had to get them somehow. And he wasn't telling her anything, no matter how hard she pushed.

With a resolved look, she padded back into the kitchen, watching him for almost a minute to make sure he was still asleep. Then she began rummaging through the drawers as quietly as possible.  
There were just two drawers. One with silverware which turned out nothing more than the aforementioned, and one with odds and ends that had piled up over time, some silverware that didn't fit in the other drawer and a whole lot more stuff.

After roaming through the contents a little, Buffy found a small ring with a single key attached to it. A key for a door. If it was the right key she would find out soon enough.

The key fit the look and Buffy twisted it until she heard the little 'click' of the lock being opened. She turned the knob and pushed the door open, careful enough to avoid any possible creak or groan of the wood.

The room was dim, the curtains on the opposite wall were drawn closed. Slowly she padded into the room, you never knew what stuff lay around on the floor in other people's room. And on her first glance she saw that Spike had lied to her, the room wasn't too small. It was almost as big as the living-room minus the kitchen. There was plenty of room from the door to the bed and around the bed.

The bed was broad and seemed almost wider than a usual double bed and it was covered with a deep red comforter, the pillows matching the color. The carpet was also done in a dark color, maybe red or even black. Buffy couldn't make it out in the lack of light.

Opposite the bed was the closet, almost nine feet long with a top to bottom mirror in the middle. Neat, and a little kinky. But what drew her eyes even more was the coat that dangled from the closet door. A long black leather duster. Buffy remembered it from one of the pictures she'd seen of Spike on stage.

Buffy stepped a little closer. A thin layer of dust covered the leather as if the coat hadn't been moved for quite some time. Of course, Spike wouldn't be able to wear it anymore. It must have been one of the remnants of his.. of his past life, locked away so nobody could see it.

Carefully she ran her fingers over the worn material. A faint smell of leather, stale cigarette smoke and something else drifted towards her. She almost felt like she was in a museum, in one of those rooms where you weren't allowed to touch stuff but you did anyway. Probably one of those 'Alice in Wonderland' effects - it says 'eat me' and you just have to take a bite.

Buffy turned around towards the bed. Beside the small lamp on one of the nightstands stood a framed picture. She went over to pick it up and turned her back towards the window to the let the dim light shine on the picture. It was similar to those she'd seen in Spike's office - him and the beautiful young woman - Drusilla, if she remembered correctly.

This had been their bedroom. Buffy had already assumed that earlier but now she knew for sure. She sank down on the bed and stared down at the picture. It almost hurt her to see the happy couple but what hurt even more was that he had locked all this away. He had secured his past, maybe to try to forget it or to keep it as a memory. Either was horrible. Why didn't he tell her this when she'd asked last night?

A little tear formed in the corner of her eye and made its way down her cheek. She didn't exactly know why she was crying, it just came to her. There was a mixture of disappointment, jealousy and.. something else. She'd never been confronted with such a thing and she didn't know how to handle it now.

"Can you tell me exactly what you are doing here?"

Buffy's head snapped up and she stared at the door. She hadn't heard how Spike had pushed it further open and now he stared at her, his eyes furious.

Spike had felt her getting up from the couch. To use the bathroom probably. But it had seeped into his mind that she was taking too long. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew it, something was wrong. So he had gotten up and had made his way into the hall. He'd seen it almost immediately, the door to the bedroom was open ajar. No no no. She had seen him getting the key yesterday and she was in there. But she wasn't supposed to be there. She wasn't supposed to see it.

"Spike, I…" Buffy rose, the picture clutched in her hands. She felt the heat rising in her face and she stared at him like a deer in the headlights.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here." he spat every word at her like a curse and moved a little further into the room.

"Spike.. I.. I can explain." she stumbled. She knew with every single fibre of her body that this had been a mistake. She might have caused less damage if she'd just asked him.

"Yeah, why don't you do that?" his voice was hard, thick threads of anger woven through it.

"I.. when you were at the hospital, I wanted to get you some clothes but… the door was locked and.."

"You decided that it would be fun to have a look? There are reasons why doors are locked."

"I know but…" suddenly her confusion and embarrassment changed into anger. "It's not like you would tell me, right?"

"What?" he spat, glowering at her.

"I opened the door cause you wouldn't tell me anyway. You don't tell me anything. Not about those painkillers you take, not about Harmony. Why? Why don't you tell me what's on your mind? Why don't you tell me that your girlfriend died in the accident? Hell, I bet you wouldn't tell about the nightmare you were having just then."

By the time she said the words, Buffy could feel and almost hear the thin threads of carefully built-up trust snap in two. Like one of those ropes you see in cartoons - when a knife is edged against it and the fibres tear apart one by one. In the comics it was always funny. But this was real. And it wasn't funny. She knew that she'd said too much but it was too late now. Far to late.

"How?" Spike stared at her, his face suddenly blank. She couldn't read his expression, she could only see the muscles of his jaw work under his skin. "How did you know?"

"Spike. .I'm.. I'm sorry.. I.."

"You looked me up." he cut her off. He remembered that she had read one of his poem. She hadn't been out for some stuff for college. She had looked him up. "Why?" His voice wasn't more than a whisper. His mind reeled at the sudden revelation.

"Because.. I just.. I just wanted to know something about you. You're not telling me anything, not even when I ask." Buffy sounded pleading, almost desperate. "Why don't you trust me with this?"

"I did." he replied simply and she could see a stray tear in the corner of his eye. But then, he suddenly barked out a harsh laugh, a hysterical sound but not at all invoked by fun. "God, I'm such an idiot. And I thought you were different." He shook his head, lowering his gaze onto his knees.

"Spike, what… what do you mean? I.. I told you I was sorry… I.."

"I thought you didn't care about all this. I thought we could just.. be friends. I guess I was wrong."

It almost seemed as if he was talking to himself, he didn't look at her. If he did, she would probably see that his eyes were brimming with tears. He fought hard to keep them out of his voice.

"God, Spike. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…" she broke off, she didn't know how to explain. Everything had gone wrong, horribly wrong. And she knew she had screwed it up.

"Get out." he pressed through gritted teeth, his hands clenching around the armrests of the wheelchair.

"But, please.. let me explain, I wasn't.."

"I said. Get. Out." he cut her off, his voice hard and cold as ice. "Take your things and go. I don't want to see you again."

Buffy stared at him for a long minute as if she was waiting for more. But it was all he said. And she knew that he had every right in the world to say it, to throw her out. It was all her fault. She had done something she shouldn't have, she had risked all the trust he had put in her by such a simple thing like looking him up on the internet. She should have known. Willow had warned her but she had been so stupid to insist on the research. And there she was, standing over the pieces that had been their relationship or whatever it was they had.

She dropped the picture on the bed, lowered her head guiltily and walked past him, slipped into her clothes and left the apartment. She knew that he meant every word he'd said.

Spike sat there in an almost trance-like position. He stared ahead blindly, feeling even more empty than ever.

Tears ran down his cheeks and his hands were quivering. He had to bite down in his lip to keep his chin from shaking, too. He didn't know whether to be furious, sad or disappointed. Probably a mixture of all three.

One the one hand, he hated Buffy for what she'd done. He had trusted her more than anybody else in the past few years. He had told her more than anybody else and he had more feelings for her than for anybody else. But he couldn't forgive her for pushing this trust to its limits.

But on the other hand, he also knew that it was kind of his fault, too. If he had told her something, even if it wasn't everything, she wouldn't have done that. And she wouldn't be gone now.

But he couldn't. He couldn't tell anybody. It was just too much.

Slowly he moved towards the bed and picked up the picture of him and Dru. It hurt to see it again. When he'd been in the room last night, he had made it quick so he didn't have time to think about it. But now she was smiling back at him, this sensual smile that promised things, that was so intoxicating that it left you awake all night until you saw it again.

He felt his heart clenching into a painful, unpleasant little ball inside his chest and he gripped the picture so hard that his thumbs cracked the glass into a spiderweb pattern of razorsharp shards. He fought hard not to sob but his tears fell onto the glass, blurring the picture.

What was he supposed to do now?

He wanted to be alone now and to have time to think stuff through. How he'd gotten himself into this mess. Well, actually Buffy had gotten him into this mess.

And for the first time, he really wished that she'd either never hit him with her car or that she had killed him right on the spot. Both would have saved him from a lot of pain.

He had adjusted to his life before; everything had been fine as far as he was concerned. But then she came, smashing into his life like a cannonball. She turned everything upside down, digging up things he had refused to think and talk about. She had altered his life in a way he would have never considered before. She had made him socialize with other people, made him smile and even laugh. She made him feel something other than all the pain and guilt that woke him almost every night for three years now.

And he was missing her already.


	26. All Cried Out

Spinning the Wheel 25 - All Cried Out

"I told you it was stupid. But... like you listen to your best friend." Willow exclaimed, gesturing wildly as she entered the Summers' house behind her friend.

"I know, I know. But I can't change it now." Buffy lowered her head as guilt flashed through her entire being.

Three days had passed since the… incident. Three days since she'd heard from Spike. She'd called him yesterday and that morning but he wouldn't pick up the phone. Once or twice she had feared that he could have done something stupid again but she also refused to visit him.

She knew that she had fucked it up. Majorly. And he had every right not to talk to her. Maybe all he needed was time. Just how much time would that be?

She was sorry and she wanted to tell him so. And she missed him.

"What are you going to do now?"

The two young women went into the kitchen. Buffy had invited Willow over after college to go through some stuff for an upcoming test. And for some much needed best-friend-time. She had told the redhead what had happened and ever since then Willow had been fueling her guilt.

"I don't know." Buffy dropped her bag onto the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. "You want something to drink?" She took out a small bottle of orange juice, twisted the cap open and took a sip.

"No, thanks. I'm fine." Willow hopped up onto one of the stools, watching the blonde intently. "But you have to do something. You can't just.. let it end this way."

"But how can I, when he doesn't want to talk to me? I can't just go to his place as if nothing ever happened. You didn't see him, Will. I made a mistake. A big one."

"I told you so - from the very beginning, I told you so - but you wouldn't listen."

"You're not being very supportive. It's your part as my best friend to tell me what I'm supposed to do now and not to give me lectures I already know by heart."

"Well.." Willow thrummed her fingers on the table-top, thinking. "I'd start with the message left on the machine there. The blinking digits are kind of obnoxious."

Buffy glared at her, annoyed. This wasn't helping. At all. And she hated this helpless feeling. If she only knew what she could do to unhappen all this. She sighed deeply and went over to the machine beside the phone and pushed the play-button.

It beeped twice before a computer-voice informed, "You have one new message."

It beeped again and the message played: "Buffy? This is Spike. I need to talk to you. Come to my place when you got time."

That was all. No 'hi', no 'bye'. Buffy stared at the machine as if it had offended her, her mouth slightly agape.

"Buffy? You okay?" Willow asked, concerned, and touched her friend's arm lightly.

"Yeah, I'm.. I'm fine. It's just…" She gestured vaguely at the machine. Her head was spinning a little. The message had taken her totally off guard. Never ever in the world had she expected that.

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked after a minute of silence.

"I don't know." she almost whispered.

"You don't want to go to him and see what he's up to?"

"I don't know." she repeated.

She didn't even know why this was bothering her so much. He wanted to talk to her, something she'd always wanted, from the very beginning. Now it was actually happening. But somehow she was a little scared. What if he told her that he really didn't want to see her again? Ever?

Willow dropped her head on her hands and sighed. "You.. are so complicated. He wants to talk to you. Whatever he wants to tell you, it can't be worse than this. You always wanted him to talk, and now he wants to, too. If you don't go…"

Buffy snapped out of her thoughts. "Are you trying to threaten me?" she asked incredulously.

"No. I'm just trying to tell you what's best and save myself from a maddening headache cause my friend's as stubborn as an old goat."

The blonde smiled at that. "You gonna drop me off by his place?"

"That's what I'm here for. This is my genuine secretly plotted plan." The redhead beamed at her friend and stood.

"I knew you were behind all this. You're like the big bad in this little story, huh?"

Despite her humor, Buffy still felt a little insecure. She didn't know what to expect from the upcoming talk. Maybe he was just going to tell her to stay away from him forever and for always... or this would be the talk. When he would tell her what had really happened. Neither option would be pretty.

The apartment building looked as if someone had dropped a bucket of dirty dishwater over it and Buffy felt as if she was supposed to wade in it. She didn't want to go in, but she had to. Willow had dropped her off a few minutes before, giving her a reassuring speech, but she still refused to go inside. She hated it when she didn't know what to expect. But she had to go in. She owed him.

The next stop came when she stood in front of Spike's door, the key in her hand. It cost her a lot of effort to insert it into the lock, twist it and open the door.

As if she had made a trip back in time, the place was dark. Not as dark as when she'd first come here but there was a dim shadow laying over everything. And she could smell the faint odor of alcohol. She'd already gathered up the strength to go through another suicidal situation again. She didn't know Spike had called her that day, anything could have happened in the meantime.

"Spike?" she asked carefully, walking down the hall towards the door of the living-room.

"In here." His voice was hard, controlled. He sat in front of one of the windows, looking out between the shades as if he was watching someone and didn't want to be watched in return.

"Hi." Buffy said lamely as she entered the room. Her hands clenched over her purse. She didn't know what else to say.

Spike waited a moment for her to approach before he spoke again. "Sit."

But Buffy didn't. She still wanted to say that she was sorry. She had thought about the best way to explain the last two days. "Spike, please.. let me explain all this. Just…"

"Sit. Down." Two single syllables, smacking into her like bullets fired from a gun six feet across the room.

She was so stunned by his sudden outburst that she obeyed and sank down on the couch. He had been angry at her before but this time it was much worse. She couldn't quite fathom what it was his voice indicated and that scared her even more than just his anger.

"You want to know, then hear me out," he snapped, never turning around to face her. He just stared ahead, out of the window into the sinking sun.

_It was raining that day. It was more than just rain; water was pouring down on the small town in southern California as if someone had opened some heavenly floodgates.  
The sky was deep gray with thick clouds and the downcoming rain blurred every possible line into shapelessness._

The shocks and brakes of the black DeSoto gave an unhealthy shriek as Spike slammed on the brakes at a red traffic light. Loud music was blaring through the speakers, swallowing every sound the car made, even the roaring engine.

He had a cigarette clenched between his lips and took an occasional drag from it before the light changed to green and he put the pedal to the metal again.

A few blocks from the neatly kept house in the outskirts of Sunnydale, he rolled the window down and flicked the cigarette butt out, letting a gust of fresh air and misty rain into the car. Dru hated it when he smoked in the car. Not that he would ever get away from the unhealthy habit but being an upcoming rock-star he had a few clichés to fulfill. So he drove one wreck of a car with blackened windows and smoked what his lungs would take.

It had always bothered Dru but she loved him too much to break up with him about such a thing. He glanced at the dashboard-clock. He was about five minutes late. He was supposed to pick Dru up at her friend's house. He didn't like Darla very much so he just stayed in the car and waited for his girlfriend to come out.

His fellow bandmembers had headed for the club in San Barth a couple of days before; an agent from one of the big record companies was supposed to be attending the gig and there was a huge chance that they would get a contract that night. So the guys wanted to do the set-up as best as possible and do a first sound-check. They hadn't played at that club before, and they wanted everything to be perfect.

Spike had been working on another demo-tape that day and it took him a little more time to finish so they had agreed to let him come a little later. And now he was picking Dru up.

Deep in thoughts about a possible set-list for tonight, Spike's head whipped around to see the dark-haired beauty rip the door open and plop down on the passenger seat. Fine mist was glistening in her hair and she smiled one of those smiles.

"Hey, kitten. I missed you." Almost unconsciously, his right hand slipped around the back of her neck and he drew her in for a hot and passionate kiss.

Dru gave an almost mewling sound, as if she was an actual kitten, before she pulled back from him.

"You ready for the big night?" he asked and coaxed the engine to life again. He had turned down the music so it was just background entertainment.

"Always. You'll be great tonight, my love." She whispered in her sweet voice and leaned back in her seat, stretching a little to show off her slender, pale neck and enough cleavage to make his mouth water. She wore one of his favorite dresses, all black and scarlet silk and lace. He was already anticipating their own little aftershow-party back at the apartment.

Spike pulled the car back onto the street and headed for the interstate leading towards San Barth.

"You had a nice time with your friend?" he asked after they left Sunnydale city limits, glancing at her sideways.

She was looking out the window, a dreamy expression clouding her face. But he was used to that. Dru always looked like that. Sometimes he caught her talking to herself. Things like that didn't scare him anymore. He loved her far too much to seriously bother.

"Yeah, it was nice." she replied simply, turning her head towards him and smiled a slow smile, her dark eyes glimmering in the dim light.

They made almost half of the way in silence, which was pretty unusual. Dru always had something to talk about, even if it was trivial stuff like the clouds or something.

"Dru, luv. What's up? Why are you so quiet?" Spike asked, a little concerned, looking at her briefly.

She turned her head to look at him but he had to face the street. The rain was getting harder and it was difficult enough to see although the windshield wipers were already working at their limits.

"I'm breaking up with you," she said, as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

Spike stared at her for a moment, before looking back at the road again. His mind had short-circuited when she'd said it and it took him about a minute to shift mental gears around the new information. This couldn't be, she couldn't be saying that.

"You're what?" he asked, his mind still reeling.

"I'm moving out. I can't do this anymore." It almost sounded as if she didn't really care, as if she'd made this decision a long time ago and was just saying it just now.

Can't do what? he wanted to ask but almost every rational thought had left the sinking ship about a mile ago. "You can't leave me. I need you." he said instead, his voice pleading.

"I can do what I please. Pull over. I want to get out." Dru wanted to reach over to open the door, but Spike grabbed her wrist, hard, and she let out a short surprised scream. A flicker of actual shock spread over her face when she saw a mixture of rage and despair on his face.

"No, you won't." He let go of her wrist but still tried to look at her and the street at the same time. "Explain it to me. Why do you want to leave? I don't understand."

Dru let out a little girlish giggle as if he was a little child and had just said something totally foolish. "And that's the point, my darling." One of her delicate hands glided over the side of face and she smiled generously. "You don't see." She shook her head, almost disappointed. "All you see is your music and the band. Your eyes are not on me anymore." She bore her eyes into his again, her expression suddenly hard, almost vicious. "Like they used to."

Every little ounce of big bad rocker image vanished and something more vulnerable took hold of him, something he had tried to forget and bury ever since he left England. "Luv, that's not true. I still have eyes for you, always will. I love you, baby." He felt his heart and stomach clenching and tears already stung his eyes.

"No, you don't. Pull over." Dru's voice was maddeningly patient but her eyes were still as cold as a glacier.

"I won't. We talk this out. Everything will be alright." He wanted to make her face him but she pulled away. "I swear."

"No, it won't." her voice was rising now, too, getting a little more high-pitched than before. "Nothing's gonna be alright. It's over. Accept that."

That did it. Anger, white hot and painful, flashed up inside and he grabbed her by the chin, twisting her head so she would look at him. "Luv, you can't just…"

Dru's eyes went wide with horror as she caught a glimpse of the street ahead. Her hand darted out towards the windshield and her breath hitched in her throat for a moment. "Watch out!!" she managed to scream.

Everything else happened in slow motion, laid out in agonizing detail. Spike turned towards the road; rain was almost blocking his view until he saw something huge and blue coming closer and closer.

The car had - thanks to the very distracting conversation - veered to the left and was now on the other side of the road. Spike gripped the steering wheel to pull the DeSoto back onto the proper side but it was too late.

The blue car hit his with a loud crunch, slamming into it with full force. The hood, including some parts of the engine and the left fin were pushed inward through the massive impact; the windshield splintered into a rain of safety glass and there was a another impact as his head hit the steering wheel and the world went black.

It hurt. Much. It was probably the good old Indiana Jones routine, everything hurt except the back of his elbow but he wasn't sure.

His head was pounding as if threatened with a sledgehammer, repeatedly, over several hours straight.

Slowly and already expecting more pain, Spike opened his eyes, first the left then the right. His vision was blurred for a moment and he had to blink before he could see clearly again. But what he saw made him wish he didn't.

There was blood, a lot of blood, sprayed over the dashboard and the remants of the windshield. He tried to move his arms but only the right one responded to his will. His lifted his hand to his face and winced when his fingers came in contact with his broken nose.

After a few moments sounds filtered into his consciousness again and he found the reason that woke him. A young man, barely out of high school, stood beside the car, blood on his face and the rest of his face white as a sheet. He had his hand on Spike's shoulder, shaking him slightly and into another rush of blinding pain.

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" He had an ill-sounding voice and it took Spike a lot of effort to turn his head towards the guy.

But he couldn't speak, he just looked at him through half closed eyes and breathed hard through his nose.

"Thank god, you're awake. I'll.. I'll call the police and.. and.. and.. an ambulance, just hold on." The young man scrambled away, almost tripping over his own feet.

Spike's head rolled forward as if he was about to pass out again. Something was nagging on his mind; he just couldn't put a finger on it. Something was missing. As his eyes followed the line of his body, he knew what it was. Every single part of his body hurt as if he'd been run over by a truck except... He couldn't feel his legs. At all.

He tried to focus on his limbs, tried to get them into action but nothing happened. He could feel a sharp pang of pain in his back as he did but that was about everything. Distorted metal blocked most of the view and there was more blood.

When the thought finally reached his brain, he started to panic. Hard. He was trapped, trapped in the mangled wreck of his car and he couldn't move. Adrenaline was pumping through his body and he started to scream at the top of his lungs, as if that would help any. His heart started pounding and the various pain-sources of his body reacted even more.

The young man came back to the car, desperately trying to dial a number on his cell phone. He almost dropped it twice before he reached the wreck. "What? What's wrong?" he asked. He was probably in shock from the way his hands shook.

The first rush of panic subsided and he looked at the boy. "I.. I can't.. I can't move," he pressed through gritted teeth.

The boy knelt down by the door and put a hand on the distorted frame. "I'll call for help. Everything will be alright. Just.. calm down." With that he disappeared again and finally managed to dial 911.

But there was still something else Spike hadn't considered. He had to concentrate, shut out all the pain and panic and try to think a little more clearly. The adrenaline had washed most of the confusion away; that was the only good think about a panic attack - it left you a little clearer afterwards.

And then, a terrible thought struck him. Dru.  
She had been in the car with him. She had screamed when his car hit the other. He didn't dare to look over to the passenger seat but he had to know what happened.

Slowly he turned his head and again wished he hadn't.

Dru lay bent forward on the dashboard, her head resting on it as if she was taking a little nap. There was a huge gash on her head. The massive amount of blood made it impossible to see where her black hair started and where it ended. More blood was bubbling up from various cuts and scrapes. Her left arm was twisted and also bleeding. And she stared at him with her dark eyes.

Spike swallowed; he felt bile rising in his throat as he stared at her. "No.. no.. no..." was all he could manage. He reached out with his bloodied hand to touch her face, to see if she was…

She blinked. Slowly, almost too slowly. Spike pulled his hand back as if burned.

"Dru.." he croaked and coughed, sending another wave of universal pain through his body.

Dru opened her lips, trying to say something, but no words came. She just stared at him.

Again, he reached out and touched her face. She felt cold beneath his fingers and he was tracing a line of blood over her cheek. "Shh.. luv. Don't.. don't talk." He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes and blinked them away.

"Dark." she croaked, her voice almost inaudible. "I can't see."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut but the tears escaped anyway, washing lines onto his blood-covered cheeks. "Everything will be.. alright. Help is on.. the way."

"No… they'll.. come.. too.. late."

He stared at her for a long moment. She blinked several times and it seemed that it became slower from time to time. "No, they'll come.. and.. and save us. It's going to be alright." He wanted to touch her hair but he was too afraid that he might hurt her even more.

When he looked into her eyes, he knew that she was right. They would be too late. They couldn't help her anymore. Her dark orbs were glazing over more and more, he could see it. He couldn't see that she was slipping away from him. And he tried to hold on to her like a drowning man.

"Luv, listen to me, okay?" he had gathered strength so he could speak with an almost clear voice now. The maddening thought that he would lose her drove him forward. "You have to stay awake. You have to stay with me." As far as it was possible, he leaned toward her to make sure that she could hear him. "Just.. listen to me. You have to stay awake." Although it hurt like hell, he put his arms around her slim shoulders, trying not to put too much weight on her weak form. Now that he could feel his other arm again - which was broken as far as he could tell from the pain it caused him to move it - he pulled it into his lap, giving him a little more space to move.

"I'm sorry, my sweet," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks now. "I didn't want this to happen, you have to believe me. I love you, baby. You know I do. I love you more than anything. I knew it from the very first day we met…"  
And with that he started babbling almost nonsense stuff into her hear. About how they had met when he was 15 and still the nerdy little boy. How she had taught him stuff, showed him her world. What he'd done for her, how he changed for her. He told her everything, just to keep her awake. She made little mewling noises every once in a while; she couldn't speak anymore. She didn't even wince when he leaned his head against her shoulder. "You remember the first gig we played? The song I sang for you?" he swallowed the tears down, sniffling quietly. And ever so quietly, he began to sing. "Lonely I saw you standing there, blackest dress and blackest hair, looked at me like no tomorrow, felt no pain and knew no sorrow. You filled my body, my veins, my heart; been never social, never smart; made me run on overdrive; felt like the first night of my life." _The last words came out as a whisper._

She was gone.

In the middle of the song, he had felt it, had seen the life whispering out of her eyes. They were half closed now, staring at nothing.

Spike didn't say anything. He didn't feel anything, not even the blinding pain all over his body. Everything was gone with her. He couldn't even cry anymore.  
He just sat there, holding her in his arms, his head leaned against her shoulder.

Only days later when he woke from the drug induced coma, he remembered how the EMTs had cut him out of the car almost three hours later. They must have given him some sedative; everything was numb.

With absent eyes he watched how they lifted Dru out of the car and put her into a body bag. He heard somebody talking to him and the sirens of the police and emergency car but nothing mattered anymore.

"I never told anyone about all this. I didn't want them to know that.. that she had to suffer. I just couldn't… but I know. I.. held her.. in my arms when… she died. I felt.. her dying. And I dream about it almost every night. I.. I killed her."

Buffy stared at him as he ended his story. She hadn't said a word. Over an hour had passed and she hadn't so much as blinked. Her heart and guts were tied into tight knots and she didn't dare to breathe now that he was quiet.

His back was still turned to her, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders were constricting and she knew that he was crying. She could hear him sobbing although he tried to muffle the sound.

But then she did what she should have done days, if not weeks ago. She rose from her seat on the couch, walked over to him to kneel between his legs and took him into her arms.

He hesitated first, almost irritated at the sudden touch, but then he responded, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

She had her arms wrapped tight around him, still careful as if she could break him even more. Absently, she rubbed nonsense patterns onto his back, her left hand slipping to the back of his neck, waving through his short curly hair.

She felt tears stinging her own eyes as she felt his seeping through her shirt onto her skin. She'd never seen a grown man crying and it scared her, too. But she knew that she was doing the only right thing.

Three years of pent up guilt, grief and sorrow were pouring out with his tears in this single moment. Everything that had been bothering him, everything he had kept hidden for such a long time. Neither dignity, nor pride, nor anything else mattered anymore. This was something pure, clean and simple. For the first time in three years it wasn't just him. He had told her about it and it had taken off a burden.

Buffy whispered nonsense words into his ear, trying to tell him that it was okay, that it would be alright again and that it wasn't his fault but she could as well have said nothing. It wasn't about words anymore. It was just about being held, about not being alone anymore, about sharing.

She held him like that for what seemed like an eternity. But that, too, was irrelevant.  
His sobbing stopped but she still kept holding him, just letting him know that she was there.

Ever so slowly she pulled back from him, her arms still wrapped around his sunken form. She felt her cheek brush against his and leaned a little closer into him. She still had her eyes closed; her own tears dried, too, as her chin rubbed against his. She could feel his breath on her skin.

Her bottom lip touched his first, grazing over it like butterfly wings. But then she began lightly nipping at his lips, before she pressed a feather light kiss on his mouth.

The second their lips touched Spike was lost.  
Lost to the pure sensation of it, lost to the sweet vanilla scent of her hair, lost to the feeling of her hot breath against his skin and lost to the peachy taste of her soft lips.

She pulled away slightly but then repeated the kiss, just tasting his lips ever so gently; they nipped at each other, totally oblivious to the world around them. Then, Buffy's tongue darted out, probing at his lips, teasing them a little.

He hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth slightly, welcoming her, taking her in.  
He couldn't remember ever being kissed like this, featherlight and deep at the same time. A variety of sweet sensations was coursing through him when their tongues touched and began a leisurely dance.

Being stripped of all disguises, all the layers of self-defence being peeled away, he was totally vulnerable to it. Emotion, naked and pure, set his body on fire, making his head swim and his thoughts blur into an unfathomable mass.

But he was the first to pull away from the kiss. He didn't open his eyes but lowered his head anyway. Almost absently he licked his lips and shuddered at the remaining sensation.

"You should go." he said quietly.

Buffy stared at him. Her mind reeled at little with the newest turn of the events. She had just kissed him. She hadn't planned that and now she was trying to comprehend. His words didn't fit into her thoughts right now. "What?" she breathed.

"You should go now. Please." His voice was heavy with.. with what? Desire, longing.

She had never heard him talking like that but at the same time she knew that she had to do what he said. It was something in the way his hands were trembling and how a little stray tear rolled down his cheek that told her to go, more than his words did. She didn't want to, she wanted to stay with him... but she knew that she couldn't.

So she rose slowly, waiting for him to maybe change his mind while she was still there. But his words never came. Not as she got her purse from the couch, nor when she made her way into the hallway.

But as she stood in the doorframe to the living-room, she turned around again. He hadn't moved and she could still see him shaking.

"Why?" she asked simply. She didn't know whether she was asking why he had told her all this or why he was sending her away. Both thoughts had jumped into her brain at the same time.

Almost a minute passed before he spoke and she could hear tears in his voice again.

"Because I'm falling in love with you. And I can't bear that."


	27. Going Through The Motions

A/N: Just so you know. I was listening to "My Skin" by Natalie Merchant while I wrote this. So if you want to have a feel for the mood etc. listen to that song.

* * *

Spinning the Wheel 26 - Going Through The Motions

Buffy sat on one of the stools in the kitchen, staring at the cordless phone in her hand. Her thumb danced over the buttons but she hesitated to push any. She knew his number by heart but she didn't dare to call him.

Almost a whole day had passed. Not even 24 hours and she was already worried out of her mind. What had happened yesterday… well… she hadn't slept last night, she had tossed and turned in her bed and even shed a few silent tears.

She could still feel his lips lingering against hers and it was sending a shiver down her spine whenever she thought about it. It had been quite some time since she'd kissed someone like that, it had been sweet and slow and fragile. It was a first kiss in all the best senses of the word.

But when it had been so good, why was she sitting in her kitchen now? Alone. Why did she have the sinking feeling that something was wrong?

She had to talk to him about it, or she would go clinically insane within the next few hours.

With a resolved face, she dialed his number but as soon as she heard the ringing, she hung up again, throwing the receiver on the counter.

"GAH!" she exclaimed, grabbed the phone and smacked it against her forehead. The sharp pang of pain made her regret it right away.

Why was she so insecure about this? She just had to call him and ask if he was alright and what this whole thing was about. It had just been a god damn kiss. Right? Right? She could go and kiss Dawn or her mom all day and it didn't make her insane with worry.

But that's not that same, light brain, she scolded herself, sighing deeply. This had been more and she knew it. She had felt it deep down inside her. Felt it in the way she had longed for it, in the way he had responded to it.

And, of course, in the way he had said those words afterwards. The words that had kept her awake the whole night. He was falling in love with her. If she had expected anything, but not that.

With an exhausted sigh, she picked up the phone again and re-dialed the number. This time she didn't hang up and waited until Spike picked it up.

His voice sounded tired, heavy and a bit slurred. Maybe he had been drinking again.

"Yeah?"

"Spike? This is Buffy." she said quickly as if the words burned her. Her free hand was shaking and she made a fist to steady herself a little. Why was she so damn nervous about this?

Silence at the other end. A long silence before he finally answered. "What do you want?" he sounded even more tired now, exhausted and there was a sigh at the edge of his words.

"I.. I just wanted to know if you were alright."

"Yeah." he replied shortly. "I'm good."

This was not good. He… was not good. Buffy knew it. "Spike… about what happened yesterday…"

"Look, Buffy…" he cut her off and then hesitated. She heard him breathing at the other end and the shifting of clothing as if he was rubbing at his eyes or something like that. "I… I can't talk about this right now, okay? I just... I can't. I need... time. I need to think about some stuff."

"But…" she felt her heart sinking.

"No." his voice was a little harsher now. "Please, just... leave me alone for a while, okay? I need time to think."

Silence again and tears stung the young woman's eyes. He didn't want to be with her anymore. Her bold move must have scared him off or something. "Okay." she whispered and closed her eyes against the spilling tears.

"Thanks."

After another moment of silence, Buffy spoke again. "Spike? I just... I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted you to know that and… I'm here… if you… need anything."

"Yeah, I know." he replied, than added, "Bye." And the connection went dead.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks and Buffy sobbed quietly. She hung up herself and laid the phone down, burying her face in her hands and wept.

This couldn't be happening. All this couldn't be true. She must have fallen asleep last night and this was a really crappy dream. But usually she would wake up now, find out everything was alright.

"Hey, what's up?" Dawn sounded a little too happy as she stood in front of her big sister who was still sitting at the kitchen counter, crying.

Buffy looked up, her eyes red and brimmed with tears, her cheeks flushed. She sniffed and wiped some tears away with the back of her hand.

"Nothing." she snapped, angry at herself that Dawn had caught her crying.

"Yeah, right. That's why you look all happy sappy to me. Do tell?" The brunette girl sat down opposite Buffy and propped her chin on her hands, looking expectantly at her sister.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah, you do."

"Dawn…" Buffy's voice became more angry and she glared at her sister but her tear-streaked face took most of the effect away.

"It's about Spike, right?"

"What?" How did she know? Was she wearing a t-shirt or something?

"You're crying because of him, aren't you? You were at his place yesterday to talk to him about you being all nosey-girl and now you're sitting here bawling your eyes out. Something tells me that it went wrong."

Why did her little kid sister have to be so damn insightful sometimes? It was scary. But she didn't say anything. She just stared ahead and fresh tears were running down her cheeks.

"You know what you need? Icecream." Dawn hopped off the stool and took a huge bowl of chocolate chip icecream out of the freezer, along with two spoons. She sat the bowl between them and handed Buffy one of the spoons. "Eat some and then tell me."

They ate in silence for a while and Buffy's tears dried away slowly. The presence of her sister soothed her a little. Although they argued a lot - sisterly dues to be fulfilled - she felt that Dawn really cared about her and wanted to know what was wrong.

"He... he told me... about his accident." Buffy said finally and let the spoonful of icecream melt on her tongue. "He told me what had really happened. He… he saw his girlfriend dying." She gave her sister the total rundown on what had happened yesterday, including the kiss and that last admission that had sent her whole world spinning off it's axis.

"Wow." Dawn exclaimed around a spoonful. She had expected some heartbreaking stuff - her sister always reacted badly to heartbreaking stuff - but that was… damn. "You kissed him?"

"Yeah?" Buffy looked as though Dawn was her jury, judge and executioner. As if she had to feel guilty about the kiss. And she was, in a way. She knew that she shouldn't have done it, that she shouldn't have slipped past all of his security barriers and just stumble into him like that.

"How was it?" her kid sister asked, an exited gleam in her eyes.

"Dawn." Buffy shot her a warning look.

"Okay, okay." Dawn held up her hands defensively. "Well, now I can see why you are all mopy but what does it mean that he can't bear falling in love with you? Isn't that a good thing? I mean, after all he's been through."

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. He just said it like that. And… I couldn't ask. I mean… you should have seen him. Going was the only thing I could do. He wouldn't have talked to me anyway."

Dawn thought about that for a moment. "Do you? I mean… do you feel that way towards him, too?"

Silence settled between the Summers's sisters. Long silence.

Buffy didn't know what to say. Dawn wouldn't buy a lie, she never did. That was the curse of the little sister, they just knew when you were not telling them the truth. But she didn't have an answer to this question. This was all way to confusing for her to focus on what kind of relationship they had.

Of course, she did like him. She wouldn't have spend so much time with him during the past months, despite their rather rough start. She wouldn't have spent hours at his side when he was in the hospital. All this wouldn't have happened if she didn't like him. But did she fall for him?

She lowered her gaze, staring at her knees for a long while, then she sighed as if gathering strength. But all she could say was, "I don't know." And she didn't.

The receiver must have weighed about a zillion pounds, it cost Spike three attempt to finally pick it up. But he just stared at it, unable to dial the number. And he even had it on speed-dial. But his hands were shaking so hard that he couldn't bring himself to pull through.

The ringing startled him more than anything and he almost dropped the phone.

"Yeah?" His own voice made him cringe, it was rough and sounded tired. And he was.

"Spike? This is Buffy?" Who else would even call him except for her?

He didn't know what to say for a long moment. He wished he could have hung up on her but for a second he was just listening to her breathing on the other end. "What do you want?" he asked then.

"I… I just wanted to know if you were alright." He could hear that her voice was shaking a little, making his heart clench even more.

"Yeah." he replied shortly. "I'm good." He just wanted it to end as quickly as possible. He wasn't good. At all. But he didn't want her to know that. She knew enough already.

"Spike… about what happened yesterday…"

"Look, Buffy…" he cut her off and then hesitated. A pang of sharp and blinding pain shot through his system. Not the kind of physical pain that left you writhing on the floor, but the kind of pain you can't fight with the best painkillers in the world. The kind of pain that goes deeper. He sighed deeply, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I… I can't talk about this right now, okay? I just… I can't. I need… time. I need to think about some stuff."

"But…"

"No." his voice was a little harsher now. "Please, just… leave me alone for a while, okay? I need time to think."

"Okay." Her voice almost a whisper at the other end. He could almost hear the tears in her words.

"Thanks."

After another moment of silence, Buffy spoke again. "Spike? I just… I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted you to know that and… I'm here… if you… need anything."

"Yeah, I know." he replied, than added, "Bye." Then he hung up, the receiver dropping uselessly to the floor.

There wasn't enough strength left in him to hold the little plastic thing in his hand. He had fought hard to keep the tears out of his own voice during the talk.

His heart was reduced to a painful little lump inside, as if someone was squeezing it with his fist.

Why? Why did it have to be like this? All he wanted was to talk to her, to have her back here again but he couldn't. He couldn't see her, couldn't talk to her. He wouldn't know what to say, it was all like a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions and he had no idea how to express them. His whole existence had been about words, weather is was his poetry or his songs. There were always words. But now? There was nothing, just something blinding and painful he wanted to run away from.

He never thought that this would ever happed again, he didn't know how to handle it. It was like the first steps of a new born deer or any other animals with too long legs. It was awkward, insecure and totally helpless. It was something he had to face alone, trying to figure out what to do now.

And sitting there in the dim light of his living-room, he felt entirely alone for the first time. Not that he hadn't been alone the three years before but this was even worse. He had come to know how good he could feel in company, how sweet life could be and that is was still a life worth living. He was pushing Buffy away from him because she was the person he wanted to be with the most right now. He wanted to flee from it by running in the wrong direction. If he was with her right now, he might not have to think about all this. But being alone, all that was left were his thoughts.

Clenching his fists so hard that it hurt was all he could do to force hot tear back.

Why did love have to hurt so much?

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more A/N:  
Just wanted to you guys know who much I appreaciate your feedback on this fic. It's a real support and I hope to get some more stuff up soon enough. Keep it coming! 

Luv ya loads!


	28. The First Cut Is The Deepest

Spinning the Wheel 27 - The First Cut Is The Deepest

Four weeks passed. Four whole weeks in which she didn't hear nor see Spike. And she started to get worried. Of course, if something would have happened to him, she would have heard. She had talked to the neighbor on the same floor when he had been at the hospital to pay a little more attention to what was going on in the apartment next door.

But she was worried that he really didn't want to talk to her anymore. Not ever again. It was choking her because she still felt that it was all her fault. If she wouldn't have kissed him back then, she wouldn't be sitting in her room now, with the slow rain pearling down her window.

Christmas was in one week and the weather had become worse day by day. Not that is was going to snow in California, therefore it started raining. The sky was clouded and grey and it couldn't fit her mood any more perfectly.

The mug of tea she held in her hands was already cold as she took a sip. She hated this, feeling helpless and totally insecure. She didn't know what to do. Spike had told her that he needed time and she wanted to give it to him, but what if she would have to wait forever? What if he was waiting now for her to make a move, to see if she even cared about him?

But she couldn't call him again. She had tried once but her fingers had denied any action. And she couldn't just show up at his place. She had a key, true, but she didn't have a reputation for respecting other people's territory in their relationship.

Relationship, there it was again. One of the few words that had been haunting her in the last few weeks. She didn't know what kind of relationship they had, if it was one to begin with. She knew that they were friends, or had been until that fateful day. She knew that she liked him, very much, that she had told him things no one else knew and that he was trusting her more than any other person. And still she didn't know what to make of it.

She had never expected him to have that kind of feelings for her. But where she should be happy and feel loved, she was just scared.

There was a careful knock on the door before Dawn poked her head into her big sister's room. "Hey, mopey-gal." She didn't smile.

"Hey." Buffy replied tiredly. "What do you want?" She didn't even have the strength to give her voice an angry edge. To be honest, Dawn had been overly nice in the last couple of weeks unlike her usual kid-sister-behavior. Weird.

"I.. uhm.. I just wanted to ask if you would come along shopping. I still need something for mom and you are old enough to tell me what a woman her age likes." The brunette girl stepped into the room, crossing her arms behind her back and bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet.

"And just for that, I should throw something at you." Buffy glowered at her.

Dawn held up her hands in defense. "You want to slay me with your expensive shoes?" She beamed. "Kidding aside. You really look like you need some distraction. This whole thing is eating you inside out and as long as you don't talk to Spike, you need some serious sister-shopping-time."

For a moment, Buffy just stared at her. Why did she have to act all grown up all of a sudden? That was scary. And she knew that Dawn was right. She needed to get out or she would go clinically insane some time soon. So she flung her legs over the side of her bed and stood. "Okay. But any comments about my age again and you're dead."

A bright smile flashed over Dawn's face and she let out a happy shriek before disappearing into the hall.

Sunnydale had never been the most crowded place on the planet. You could always wander the streets without bumping into anyone or you could simply take a step aside on the street without being hit by a car.

It was as if the town was experiencing it's first Christmas ever. The streets were uncomfortable crowded despite the rain and the chilly wind that swept up some damp garbage here and there. It wasn't as if it didn't happen every year on the same day. But still, people seemed to forget about that day all of a sudden, started panicking and hit the streets to get the last presents. Thank god it wasn't any closer to Christmas. They would be dead by now, trampled by furious housewives and busy weekend-daddies.

"You know what? That's what I hate about Christmas. It's about love, right? And what's happening? People are even more pissed than usual. It's just not right." Dawn complained, a huge plastic bag in her hand that held a frame she wanted to fill with picture of her and Buffy. It would be the perfect present for her mom, even Buffy had said that. And that meant something, given the age an all.

Buffy didn't answer. She shivered in the rain and crossed her arms, rubbing at her shoulder, her umbrella wobbling a little and a fine spray of rain hit her face. She hadn't taken much joy in the shopping. She didn't even want to try something on or buy a pair of new earrings which was so not her.

"Hey… you look like a frost stick. You want to swing by at the Espresso Pump?" Buffy just nodded limply and they turned a corner to head for the local coffee shop. "You know, I'll get one of those Red Eye things. Xander said they were..." Dawn stopped as she saw Buffy standing stock still a few steps back. She followed her sister's eyes down the street to see an equally startled young man staring back at her. "Hey... ehm... know what? I'll go get the coffee, you hold this." She shoved the bag into her sister's arm who caught it clumsily before disappearing in the more than crowded Espresso Pump. At her last step, she shot Spike a slow smile.

Buffy didn't know how long they had be staring at each other. It was as if they met for the very first time. Her heart started to beat a little quicker and she swallowed hard before being able to make a step forward.

"Hey." A thin smile spread on her lips but it didn't even reach her eyes.

"Hey." Spike's expression was almost unreadable. He just looked at her, plain and simple.

"How... uhm... how are you?" 'Queen of wit, that's me.' Buffy thought and mentally rolled her eyes at the stupid question.

"Okay." he replied in the same flat tone.

And Buffy knew that he lied. It was the same lie he had told her on the phone a while back. He hadn't been good then and he was far from okay now. He looked tired, exhausted. His eyes had lost a few shades of blue and had dark circles underneath them. And for the first time she could get a glimpse of his true hair color, dark roots showing beneath the bottle-blond mass of damp curls. Now that she saw him like this, she realized that she had never seen any clue of his natural look. That must have been something he had preserved from his past; just like that coat.

She blinked after an uncomfortable silence had fallen between them in which he just kept staring at her. Not that she noticed since she returned his gaze with almost the same intensity.

"So... what... what are you doing here?" she asked after a while, knowing that this question had an equal amount of stupity to it.

"Running errands." He nodded as if to convince himself that it was true. "You?"

"Shopping. Dawn asked me to come along. She needed a Christmas present for mom." She lifted the bag for emphasis.

"Christmas, right." It almost sound as if he had totally forgotten about that.

Silence settled again, this one even heavier than the last one. This time both of them were staring aimlessly at the ground.

"Spike?" Buffy suddenly burst out.

"Hm?" He blinked at her in surprise.

"Can we... I mean... can we... talk?" She just couldn't hold it any longer. It had been enough to sit at home not knowing what to do, but seeing him now and not saying anything was too much.

"Think we have to." he said simply, although a dark and somehow disappointed shadow flickered over his face.

"Yeah... good. But... but not here, okay? This is just..." She pointed towards the row of people outside the coffee shop. "You... you want to come by my house?"

Spike seemed to consider that for a moment before he nodded. "Tomorrow? I need to... See... to some stuff today."

'Stuff? What stuff?' she almost asked but bit it back. The smile she gave him this time was a little brighter. "Great." she said instead.

"'kay... I… I need to go. See you tomorrow then." With that, he moved past her and disappeared around the corner.

"Let me just reverse my comment about love from before, okay?" Dawn appeared from the coffee shop, two to-go-cups in her hand

. 

Buffy jumped at the sudden words. "Dawn, did you listen again?" She glared at her sister.

"Well, no. I just saw you guys with the moon-eyes, that's all. So, what happened?" She handed her sister one of the cups with steaming hot cappuccino, before taking her bag back.

"First, there were no moon-eyes involved, you should stop watching those soap-opera. And second, we just agreed to talk tomorrow. He'll come over." Buffy took at sip from the drink, feeling the heat filling her body, the first comfortable feeling in weeks.

"You'll just talk?" Dawn raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, right."

Buffy sat over the newspaper in the kitchen, waiting for a kettle of water to start boiling. It hadn't stopped raining since yesterday but it was still warm enough not to heat the fireplace in the living-room. So she had to rely on every warm drink in the house to keep the chill at bay.

She almost jumped out of her skin when somebody knocked on the door. Her heart skipped a beat or two before settling in on a slightly raised pace. Spike. It had to be him. Dawn was upstairs and not expecting company and her mother was still at the gallery. And since they had to agreed on meeting here…

For a moment, she just stared at the door, hesitating and trying to steady her breath. It wasn't actual fear that made her stop, but she couldn't deny being a little afraid of what he might tell her now.

"Hey." She smiled politely when she finally opened the door. She didn't feel like smiling at all.

Spike returned the gesture although his eyes, too, seemed wide with a anticipation and anxiety. He still looked tired as if he hadn't slept in days and he was totally drenched by the rain.

Buffy told him so. "You want to come in? You gonna catch a cold."

"No, I..." he hesitated for a moment. "I'd rather stay here."

'In case he wants to make a quick exit', Buffy thought but stopped herself before saying it aloud. "Then let me get you some tea. I'll be back in a second."  
She left the front door open as she disappeared into the kitchen, where the kettle was whistling.

She returned a minute later with a small tray with two mugs. A towel hung over her arm. She put the tray down on the small table beside the wooded bench on the porch and handed him the towel. "Here. If you don't want to come inside, dry yourself off instead."  
Buffy sat down on the bench, pulled her legs under her body and draped a blanket over her knees. Thank god, the damp hadn't gotten her yet.

Spike rubbed the fluffy towel over his dripping hair and face but the chill that crawled down his spine stayed. He watched Buffy from the corner of his eyes, seeing her taking a sip from the steaming tea.

He could bet all to nothing that she could hear his heart thumping furiously in his chest. Seeing her yesterday had been like a pro-boxer's punch in the stomach, unexpected and breath-taking. No matter how tough you think you are, you just falter at the impact.  
He hadn't slept that night, had always seen her surprised face in front of him. And now he was here again.

God, he had missed her so much. Had missed her smile, her voice, the aura of peachy-vanilla scent around her. It was almost too much to bear to see her now. But she looked tired as well. Her honey-blond hair was pulled back in a tight pony-tail and she wore a thick knitted cream-colored sweater she almost drowned in. It seemed sort of out of place at her petite form.

"So…" she began after a while without looking at him.

Spike had just picked up don't need at the cup, flinched and spilled a few drops on his jeans. He knew that the inevitable was close. He had tried to push it away as far as possible but he had agreed to this. He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it.

He hesitated for a long moment, trying to gather is thoughts to get them out without starting to cry like a little girl. There was enough weakness for both of them as it already was.

Then, he looked up her, only to meet her green eyes which were intently focused on him. He took a deep breath before speaking, "About what I said... that night... I meant it. Every single word." His gaze never wavered and in retrospect he would be surprise that he had the strength to do so.

"I know." Buffy replied almost on the spot. She blinked slowly, lowering her eyes as she did and stared into her tea. "But I don't understand it."

"Will you hear me out?" he asked, his voice a little tired, strained. He remember his words from their first big talk. It had started almost the same.

"Yes." she said simply, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. She was chewing on her lip absently, trying not to think about what he might tell her now.

"I loved her." he began, looking out into the rain-clouded Revello Drive. The tiny droplet were hanging in a fine mist in the air, drifting in the light breeze. This was just right weather to tell such stories. "More than anything. I met her when I was fifteen. I was... a total wuss back then and she just... she altered my life. She... was the first woman I've ever been with. She... showed me things, did things to me… She was everything to me. She was my world." He swallowed and blinked new tears out of his eyes, trying not to let the upcoming emotions stop him. He had to say this now or never. "And then...", he continued, "she's gone. She's just... torn away from me. It's like when the carpet is ripped from under your feet. And you fall into... nothing. There is nothing." Despite himself he wiped a tear away that threatened to roll down his cheek.

He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and it almost seemed as if it wanted to make it's way out of his mouth and take a look around.

"And now..." he added after a moment, his voice quivering a little and he swallowed again. "You come along. And it's just...", he shook his head indifferently, "if I would loose you now... I couldn't bear it. I wouldn't survive it." And with that he ended.

He stared out into the street, his eyes glistening with tear that threatened to spill. She saw him biting his lower lip to keep it from quivering.

And then, it dawned on her. Now she understood his words from before. Why he couldn't bare it. The love of his life had been taken away from him. Not only had she broken up with him that very same day but she had also died in the accident. She was just gone.  
And now that he was starting to feel for her the same way he was scared that she would be taken away from him, too. That he built the trust in her and than it would be over again. That he opened himself up to her, let her into his word and it would happen again.  
He tried to protect himself from being hurt again. From being hurt ever more.

"Do you love me?" she asked bluntly. She already knew the answer, had seen it his eyes, but she just had to ask.

Spike lowered his head and sniffed back another tear. "I tried so hard not to but... yes. Yes, I do."

She saw the muscles in his jaw clench as he tried to keep himself from sobbing. And she, too, had tears on her eyes. The way he just said it, it sounded too much like a burden, something nasty and unpleasant.

Thick and awkward silence settle in between them, heavy enough to crush the fragile bond between them.

"I... I don't expect you to understand this but..." Spike began after about five minutes but Buffy cut him off.

"I do." she almost blurted.

She really hadn't planned going there now. Or ever again, for that matter. And as she saw him blinking at her in surprise, she already regretted it.

So she hesitated for a moment before she began her part of the story. "When I came here a couple of years ago, I met a guy in my school. He was a little older. And I fell for him right away. He was my first boyfriend, my first real love. On the night of my 17th birthday... we slept with each other." She sighed, dwelling in the unpleasant memory for a minute. "And as first times with older guys go... he was gone the next day. I didn't hear from him for the next couple of days. And when he showed up again he was... well, he was different. He started threatening me and my friends, my family. And then... suddenly... he was gone. And I didn't hear from him ever again."

She glanced up at him and caught him watching her intently. When their eyes met, he flinched away, staring down into his half-empty mug.

"So I guess, Riley was right when he said that I didn't love him back the way he did. I just... I don't trust... guys... very well." she confessed. She had never told anyone about this. Of course her friends knew it first hand but not the about her emotions.

Spike watched her for a moment before he dared to ask. "Do you trust me?" He knew that it was all he could ask her now. He couldn't and wouldn't ask her if she loved him, too. She wouldn't have an answer to that. He knew it instinctively.

She looked up at him and held his searching gaze for a long minute. She felt her heart skip a little beat before she nodded, "Yes."

"Do you trust me just because I can't run away from you?"

Buffy blinked at that. "What?"

Spike broke the eye contact first. "You know what I mean. Do you just... trust me... cause I'm safe?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, you do." he replied, his voice tainted by a little flicker of anger. "Buffy, I told you what Harmony said to me. There isn't much I can give you. So I'm just asking. Look, in the last couple of weeks, I... couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. All I could think about... was you. So... if this is all there is to it, then..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't think about what was going to happen.

"No." Buffy replied quickly, understanding his fear, seeing all the pieces his heart and soul had been shattered into. "It's not about that. I trust you... because." She nodded for emphasis, hoping that he would see her honesty.

And when he looked at her now, tears were brimming his eyes, making the pale blue seem a little darker now. There was still fear shining in them and all Buffy wanted to do was to crawl inside him and mend his broken heart with all the love she could give.

Wait! Hold on! Love? Did she just think 'love'?  
Well... maybe. But she wasn't ready to admit it yet.  
Trusting him and telling him so was all she was able to give now. And seeing him devastated like that… rushing into things would only complicate everything if not destroy it entirely.

She blinked again as she felt his hand resting on hers. Her eyes traveled along his fingers, his hand and up his arm until she locked her gaze with his.

They just looked at each other for several minutes. It almost seemed as if they were communicating with their eyes only, saying words which didn't need to be spoken aloud.

Spike's thumb grazed the skin of the back of her hand slowly before he spoke again. "You think... this'll work? I mean... you... and me?" The words felt strange on his tongue. He hadn't even thought about considering them a couple. And he still didn't do so now.

"If... you give it a chance. I know... it's not going to be easy and... it might hurt, too, but... I think we can work something out." She tried to smile a little, trying to lighten up the situation. But she knew that it wasn't that simple. "If... we take it one step at a time."

"Yeah... that would be..." Great? Fantastic? More than I ever dreamed of?  
He didn't know which one to pick so he just let the words trail off. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The same smile appeared on Buffy's face. The inner girl was jumping up and down at the mere thought that he didn't hate her and that he wanted to see her again, that he loved her. But she didn't want to get overly exited. It was going to be a hard time for both of them now.

"Speaking of which..." she rose and made a step towards him, settling down on his lap. He looked up at her in surprise. "It's Christmas... and there is in fact a mistletoe hanging over our heads." She pointed towards the door where the little green twig dangled from a red ribbon. "So... if I kiss you now... will you kiss me back?"

A moment passed between them.  
God, there was nothing he wanted to do more right now. He had longed for that touch since she had kissed him four weeks ago. The thoughts about that had kept him awake most of the time. He was desperate to feel the rushing sensation again that was waiting on her lips.

His smile had changed into a smirk. Even though it was hesitant, it was there. "Try me."

And so she did.


	29. Long Time Dead

Spinning The Wheel 28 - Long Time Dead

Buffy took the cup from Spike's hands and set it down on the small table.

He watched her every move and realized that his hands were trembling a little with anticipation.

Despite himself, his fingers slid up her arms and he twirled a strand of her hair around his index finger.

"You really sure about this?" he asked carefully, still a little unsure if it was the right thing to do. Fear shone in his eyes and Buffy entwined her fingers with his, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I know that you're scared. This is new for me, too, but I really want it."

For now that was all he needed. He might be a weeping idiot with a whole truckload full of issues to work on but he, too, had hormones that leapt into the driver's seat occasionally. So he took her face between his hands and pulled her closer against his body. He looked up into her eyes and she held his gaze with a reassuring steadiness.

The kiss was slow and sweet, just like their first one. Her lips were hot lava melting into glacier ice. It's been a long time since he'd been kissed or since he'd kissed someone like this.

Spike tilted his head to one side and deepened the kiss a little. His tongue darted out to carefully probe at her lips, begging for entrance.

She welcomed him, nipping slightly at his lower lip before letting his tongue slide against hers and into her mouth.

Buffy gave a little whimper and leaned more into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing against the nape and through the short curls there. It sent goosebumps all over his body and she could feel his skin tingle beneath her fingers.

The young man let out a quiet moan - stifled by her lips pressed against his - as her thigh rubbed slightly against some very sensitive body parts.

At that, Buffy broke away from him, panting a little. "Did I hurt you?" she asked, her voice ragged and shaky.

"What?" Spike looked up at her. His eyes had darkened a little and he didn't look quite so tired anymore.

"Did I hurt you?" she repeated, her face set in a concerned frown.

"Oh… that..." he nodded. "No, no. You didn't." he breathed, a little chuckle on the exhale.

"Good." she smirked down at him, running her hand over his neck and down his chest.

He blinked, staring right into her green eyes. Quietly, he hoped that she would see how incredible good he felt right now, see the energy and the passion cursing though his system. He would never be able to find the right words for it, his poetic and song-writing skills be damned. This was beyond words, beyond everything he had ever felt - especially in the last couple of years.

It was sort of a warm feeling, spreading in his belly; the flames quickly devouring his entire body It was the sun in spring after a hard and cold winter; it was hot chocolate sauce on vanilla ice-cream ; it was.. definitely too much to think about.

And that - it - was also a part that he believed to be long time dead. Not that he 'couldn't' - god forbid, he might be pathetic but not that pathetic - it just didn't feel as good as it did now with her weight pressing against it.

"I love you." he said then, quietly and in a hushed tone as if it was something holy.

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, the a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "And? Did it hurt?" And this time she didn't talk about body parts.

"Yeah." he plucked a strand of hair that had come undone behind her ear, smiling now, too. "But sort of in a good way."

She beamed at him. "I take that as a compliment." She leaned back into him, brushing her lips against his like butterfly wings, but he pushed her back a little to look into her face.

"Thank you." he said simply, an unreadable expression on his feature.

She frowned at that and slumped down a little. "For what?

" 

"For..." he hesitated, "for this. For... being with me despite this." His hand ran over the armrests of the wheelchair. "For.. doing these things to me, for making me feel good, for..."

Before he could actually start babbling, she took his face between her hands and crushed her lips down on his, taking his breath away. The kiss deepened quickly, she melted into him, pressing her body almost flush against his.

His warm hands roamed over her back, trying to memorize every curve and dip he could reach. His fingers raked through the open part of her hair, pulling her as close as possible. He wanted to touch her, feel her, know that she was really there and that it wasn't just some sort of weird dream he was trapped in. If it turned out now that it was just exactly that, he would go clinically insane. He wouldn't be able to bear opening his heart and soul to another person and then being laughed at. Not ever again. He was too fragile and he would only hope that Buffy knew and understood that.

He was drowning in her, totally lost to the sensation of the kiss. So much that his hands traveled down her back and rested on her butt, pulling her body closer with every available inch.

They were interrupted by a polite clearing of a feminine throat. Apparently, Buffy didn't hear it. Spike pulled away first, looked at the person and colored brightly.

"Joyce." his voice was a little raspy.

"Joyce?" Buffy's head jerked up as she stared at him for a moment. Then the thought filtered through her brain. "Joyce... Mom!" she whipped around and stared at her mother who's amused gaze rested on the previously smooching couple.

"Seems like the two of you made up." A smile tugged at her lips as Buffy blushed as well.

"You wouldn't believe it, if we said 'no', would you?" The blonde heard Spike chuckling in her ear quietly as he took his hands away from her butt.

"Kinda not, no. Why don't you come inside. It's pretty chilly out here."

"Yeah, I... didn't notice." Buffy replied with a sideways glance at Spike.

"Guess we were... busy." he added and buried his face in her hair, nuzzling at her neck a little.

She shivered at his touch, totally oblivious of Buffy's mother again. "A little, yeah." She wriggled her butt in his lap and he squirmed beneath her. "We better go inside. You're still drenched. Don't want you to catch a cold."

"You're so generous." He smirked up at her.

"Yes, I am."

As rough start, followed by a rosy and candy-covered interlude go, they weren't necessarily brought to a happy ending.

It could also end with a massive flu and Buffy playing nurse for almost an entire week.


	30. I'm Not An Addict

A/N: Thanks again for the nice comments. Luv you guys. Sorry about the delay of updates. I'm not in the mood for writing this fic in the moment, plus I'll be on vacation next week, so don't expect any more updates in the next three weeks.

But keep the reviews coming. They make me feel good and maybe I'll find the muse again :D

* * *

Spinning the Wheel 29 - I'm not an addict  
  
Now Buffy knew why none of the nurses at the local hospital had objected to releasing Spike as soon as possible.  
  
If he wanted to, he could be the most annoying man in the world. And she thought taking care of Dawn was a pain in the ass. He could be whiny as a baby. Not only that, he was extremely picky about what to eat - the worst thing was that he still refused to sleep in a real bed.  
  
"No, I won't." he snapped and almost pouted, although the effect of his complaint faded due to the light nasal tone of his voice.  
  
Buffy slumped down in the chair opposite the couch where Spike lay, a pillow stuffed under his head and a blanket drawn up around his chest.  
  
"Spike," she sighed heavily, "Will you just stop being such a baby? You have to sleep in a real bed. This is... this is just ridiculous."  
  
"No, I won't. And it's not." he repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Buffy could swear that he was pouting for real now. "Give me one good reason to let you stay on that thing."  
  
"Cause I ask you to." Spike replied, sitting up. He felt a little nauseous as he did but he sensed a talk coming up, so he wanted to gather a little dignity.  
  
"Is it because of what's in that room?" she asked and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. She knew that talking about this would be difficult but she wanted to get to the source of this, she wanted to know why he kept being to stubborn...  
  
He just nodded in answer.  
  
"Why do you lock that door? Don't you want people to see it?" Pulling teeth was nothing compared to this.   
  
It took Spike almost a minute to open his mouth. "I don't want to see it.." he said then, his voice flat. He didn't look at the young woman but he could almost feel her frown. He would be frowning, too, if he was her. "In that room... the stuff you've seen there... that's me. I mean... that was me, the man I've been. Before." He gestured towards the wheelchair that stood a little off to one side of the couch within arm's reach.  
  
"You don't want to be reminded?" She knew that pushing him wouldn't do any good but she sensed that it was too hard for him to say it himself. So it was no wonder that he just nodded again. "You want to preserve the memory." she added and he nodded once more.  
  
"I can't be that man ever again. It's over. And this", he rubbed his hands of over his blanket-covered legs, "This is just a shell. It's nothing."  
  
Spike shifted his weight to sit a little more upright, as a pang of sharp pain shot through his body and he winced. Almost on it's own accord, his hand reached for the small orange tube of painkillers on the table. Dropping two of the pills into his palm, he lunged for the glass of water.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy gave a start and jumped to her feet.  
  
He had the tablet already between his teeth, so he just glared at her over the rim of the glass. After he had swallowed, he replied. "It hurts."  
  
"Well, duh." She went over to him and yanked the tube from his hand. "Of course it does. It I told you what the doctor said. Your nerves and muscles are rebuilding, that's what hurts. And you keep blocking the process with these things."  
  
"Buffy, don't be delusional. It's not going to happen." He was a little irritated about her sudden outburst but that changed into anger pretty quickly.  
  
"Well, maybe not. But you could at least give it a chance." With that she stalked over into the kitchen and poured the tube into the sink.  
  
"Are you insane? That stuff costs a fortune." In moments like these, he wished he could run over to her to keep her from doing even more stupid stuff.  
  
"I don't care." she shrugged and tossed the tube into the trashcan.  
  
"Buffy", he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. A dull headache began to settle in behind his eyes. "I know that you got good motives. But it won't work. I will never walk again." Saying it still hurt. Lots.  
  
Buffy looked at him for a long moment, the wheels spinning in her mind. "You will not or you don't want to?"  
  
"What?" He blinked in irritation.  
  
She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. "You know what I think? I think you don't want to walk again. You are afraid."  
  
"Are you completely nuts now? How can you say that?" Anger flashed in his eyes and he swung his legs off the couch, facing her now.  
  
"Cause it's true. First I thought that you just didn't believe in it but now I think I got to the real deal here. Being in the wheelchair has changed you, no doubt, but you use it as an excuse. As an excuse to sit back and dwell in your misery, to chase everyone away who cares about you. If you could walk you might have to face living again. And that's what you're afraid of."  
  
For a long minute, Spike just stared at her, then blinked and lowered his eyes.  
  
He didn't know what to say. Partly because he was a little dumbstruck by her speech. But mostly because Buffy was right.  
  
She had hit it right on the spot with every single word. Thinking about being able to walk again, to live again, scared the living hell out of him. He had retreated with the bridges burning behind him, with nothing left to come back to. He had no idea what he would do then. He barely scraped by with his writing and he highly doubted that his band would take him back. He had read some reviews of their CDs and gigs, they were making it big and they wouldn't need him anymore.  
  
Spike looked up to see Buffy standing in front of him, holding out a hand to him. A small key glistened between her fingers, the key to the bedroom.  
  
"Please." she said simply, her voice calm and her face resolved.  
  
He held her gaze for a moment before he sighed and took the key from her hand. "Why do you do this to me?"  
  
"You know why." she replied and a thin smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. 'Because I'm falling for you and I want to see you smile again' her mind added.  
  
He pulled the wheelchair a little closer and lifted himself over in it. The nausea ghosted through his system and he blinked a couple of times. He really needed to sleep in a real bed.  
  
Without another word he moved past her and out into the hall. Buffy heard the click-clack of a door unlocked. She gave him a moment, then followed him.  
  
He sat in front of the closet where his coat dangled from its hanger. His fingers brushed over the worn material and she hear him exhaling a shuddering breath. She knew it must be hell for him but it was for the best.  
  
"It was my trademark. I wore it... everywhere. Especially up on stage. I was... different when I wore it. Stronger. Tougher."  
  
Buffy flinched at his words, that he knew she was there and that he told her this so openly.  
  
Then, he turned around - his eyes grazing her briefly - and moved towards the bed. He stopped and picked up one of the pictures on the nightstand.   
  
"She choose the bed. She said it spoke to her." He smiled thinly, "I never slept in it alone."  
  
His fingers ran over the surface of the picture. She could see deep sorrow flicker over his features before he looked up at her.  
  
"Can you stay here? With me? Tonight?"  
  
Why was it still so hard to talk to her about this? To ask her such questions? They had already slept in one bed. But this was different. This was his bed, his room and he had told her what he felt for her. That didn't make it any easier.  
  
"Sure," she nodded.  
  
"I still... I still have that shirt from... that night when you slept here." he confessed, a blush creeping on his cheeks. "It's in... the living-room." That he had held it in his arms and inhaled her fading scent every night when he had tried to sleep, he left out. He didn't want to make an ever bigger fool out of himself.  
  
"I'll go and change then." With that, she disappeared back into the living-room.  
  
Spike was just pulling a shirt he used to sleep in over his head when Buffy came back, in just that shirt again. His eyes travelled down her tanned legs and up over the shirts hem to the soft curve of her hips and her breasts.  
  
"Huh?" he snapped out of his more or less R-rated thoughts, when she spoke to him.  
  
"You want me to wait outside?" she asked, her posture by the door giving away her awkwardness.  
  
He hesitated for a moment but then he shrugged. "No, it's... its okay. If you don't mind seeing a totally ridiculous attempt to get undressed." He covered the rising insecurity with a lame joke.  
  
"Why not? Enlighten me," She shot back, went over to the bed and sat down at the end.  
  
Spike lifted himself over into the bed and untied the cord of his sweats. Buffy watched him as he shifted to one side to pull the pants over his butt, then on the other before he could pull them down his thighs.  
  
"You're right. It's pretty ridiculous." She joked but her tone was serious.  
  
"You've been warned." He slipped out of his pants and threw them over the armrest of the wheelchair. "You mind if I stay in those?", he gestured at his boxer-shirts, "I want to save what little dignity I have left."  
  
"Whatever you like." Buffy crawled backwards on the bed.  
  
Again, he hesitated. He just sat there and stared at his scarred knees.  
  
"Spike, if you're not comfortable with this we can..."  
  
"No, no. It's... okay. It's just..." he rubbed at his tired eyes.  
  
"It's because this is your bed, right?" Carefully, she reached out to touch his shoulder. He flinched at the touch and then nodded.  
  
She could feel him trembling beneath her hand; he must have tears in his eyes again. Now her conscience kicked back in and she felt guilty for putting him through this. But they both knew that it had to happen sooner or later. If they were supposed to work on a relationship, they had to try and work on all the issues that had piled up between them. And sleeping in one bed – supposedly his, since Buffy's bedroom was on the second floor – was one of them.  
  
Buffy snapped out of her guilty thoughts when Spike laid his hand over her's and entwined his fingers with hers. "I know you're right. I know I have to sleep in a real bed, that I'm scared... it's just that I'm..." His worlds trailed off and he lowered his head again, trying to hide his face from her.  
  
"It's okay. I'm sorry that I'm doing this to you." She shifted closer to him and wrapped her other arm around his shoulder, leaning her head again his back. They stayed like that for a while and she tried to give him all the comfort she could.  
  
It helped to feel her warm body pressed against his, to feel her presence both physically and mentally.  
  
Then, she pulled back from him, drawing him with her. Buffy slipped under the barely used blanket and Spike struggled a little until he got his legs beneath it as well. He lay down on the side he used to sleep on. It felt good actually, much better than the old and battered couch.  
  
Buffy lay on her side, watching him as he tried to settle into a more comfortable position. She tried to push the thought away that this was the bed of Spike and his girlfriend. She was very much aware of the shadow hanging over their heads.  
  
An awkward silence settled in between them and then he turned on his side, facing her. "When I dream... please wake me up."  
  
She nodded quietly, then leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the forehead.  
  
For a long moment, they just looked at each other. Despite the darkness in the room, they could see each others face clearly.  
  
Buffy could sense that he was still afraid, that tears still made his eyes glisten in the dim light. He was definitely uncomfortable with this but he didn't pull back because of her, she knew and felt it. It almost radiated from him.  
  
Looking at Buffy was like a warm blanket wrapped around his insecurities and fears; she was his anchor, saving him from being swallowed into the depths of utter misery. And he had no words for all the the gratitude he felt.  
  
His heartbeat slowed a little and he closed his eyes, drifting off into sleep.  
  
Buffy awoke about an hour or two later when she heard Spike moaning beside her. It wasn't a pleasant moan, it was a nightmare just like he had predicted.  
  
His back was turned towards her, so she pushed herself up on her elbow, reached out putting her hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake.   
  
"What?" he jerked around, as far as his half-paralyzed body would go and stared at her, in what could best be described as bone-rattling shock.  
  
"You were having a nightmare." She told him, in a soothing voice.  
  
He blinked, trying to shift gears around that and then the familiar memory came rushing back. "Oh... right." He sounded as if he was talking to himself. He stared into the darkness, his eyebrows twitching along with the gruesome pictures burned into the back of his mind.  
  
Finally, he turned fully towards her and looked at her for a long moment. She was watching him calmly. She had no idea what to do now. But his pleading eyes gave her a hint only a second later.  
  
So Buffy lay back down reaching out her arm to him and without another word, he snuggled closer, his head resting on her shoulder. She looked down at him. Maybe he hadn't been fully awake but his eyes closed almost immediately.  
  
Mirroring their first night together, she wrapped both her arms around his shoulders, drawing him more towards her. She breathed in his scent and gave him a tender kiss on the head, letting him know she was there. Then she closed her eyes and slowly drifted to sleep along with him.  
  
It wasn't a surprise to either of them that there weren't any more nightmares for him that night. 


	31. Enough Is Enough

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. You guys just rock.

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Spinning The Wheel 30 – Enough Is Enough

Grey December sun peaked though a crack in the curtains and dipped the rom in a dim, almost sad light.

Usually a light like that wouldn't have done anything to the sleeping Buffy but this morning she awoke just by the faint chance of lighting in the room.

Slowly, she blinked her way into consciousness and it took her a moment to take in her surroundings.

She was in Spike's bed who was sound asleep right beside her.

He was lying on his back with one arm draped over this eyes as if he was trying to keep the annoying light out of his system. She could hear him snoring quietly and he wrinkled his nose now and then. It was probably the sweetest thing she'd ever seen but god knew that she would never tell him that.

The blanket was draped loosely around his legs, leaving the right one open to her eye and his scars all too visible.

Her fingers darted out to touch the vulnerable pink skin again. She remembered the way he had watched her when she'd touched his skin for the first time.

She knew that it was rather impolite but she just had to do it. So she reached out carefully and her fingers ghosted over his skin. Of course he wouldn't feel it but she was still overly careful. Her fingertips traced over the baby-sweet skin of the scar that wound up around his knee and she followed it up to where it disappeared underneath the blanket.

Sadness flickered over her face as she remembered the horrible story these scars told, how much misery they mirrored.

"Can you tell me exactly what you are doing?"

Spike's voice startled her so much that she jerked her hand back as if burned.

"Oh.. hi." She smiled sheepishly. "Thought you.. didn't feel that."

"Well, I don't. But I'm paralysed, not blind." He quirked an eyebrow at her and took his arm completely from his eyes.

"I'm.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. manhandle you."

Spike smirked at that. "No, it's.. it's okay. I bet that it.. felt nice." A small blush crept on his cheeks. "I mean.. I can only judge from when you.. uhm.. changed those bandages. That was.. okay."

"Yeah, what about that? It's all healed up?"

He couldn't quite deny that he was a little disappointed about the sudden change of events. "Yeah, it's all good." He pulled his shirt up to reveal the zig-zagging scars on his chest. Another gruesome story.

Instinctively, Buffy's hand darted out and Spike shuddered visibly under her touch. He closed his eyes and licked his lips.

"Yeah… it feels good." He thought aloud.

"Why did you try to cut it out?" Buffy asked bluntly, her fingers still resting on his skin, and he blinked in confusion. "You said that you tried to cut it out when I found you that day. Why?"

Silence. Almost two minutes neither of them spoke.

He didn't want to go there. At all. Spike successfully avoided her gaze, before he finally sighed. "It hurt too much." He made a melodramatic pause before he continued. "What Harmony said that day… it struck home. She said that.. I wasn't good enough.. for you. And I thought she was right. I knew I would never have a chance and.. it just hurt too much."

He had sworn to himself that he would never tell her about that had really brought him to the point where he wanted to kill himself but he knew that it had been inevitable. Buffy wouldn't have believed any lie he told her.

Buffy looked at him with tears brimming her eyes. Deep down, she had sensed that he had something to do with it but not in such a profound way. She had been the trigger for all this.

And besides that, a little thought clawed it's way into her brain. He had this feelings for her even back then? And she didn't see it?

Out of reflex, she leaned forward and gave him a quick but deep kiss. She rested her forehead against his and they lingered like that for a moment before she pulled back. "Do you regret it?"

Spike frowned at that and waited a moment for her to specify her question.

"Do you regret that you sued me? After the accident?" Buffy was chewing on her bottom lip, afraid of his answer. She looked at him, seriously.

Spike shrugged. "Wasn't my idea."

"Huh?"

"I didn't want to sue you. Willy came to me in the hospital. Said he could help me making some money if I let him take it to the court. And at that point I was pissed enough to believe him." He lowered his head a little guiltily.

"Yeah.. but do you regret it?" Buffy asked again.

Again, silence settled between them. "At first, I did." Spike said that. "I didn't want to have anybody around. Especially.. not you. You were…"

"Awfully annoying, sticking my nose in things that weren't my business and being the most obnoxious person in the world?" Buffy continued.

"Sad but undeniable, yeah. " he joked but got serious again a second later. "But although I hated it at first.. I'm kinda glad that.. you were there. It felt really good to talk to someone."

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, drowning in his honest, open gaze. It was amazing how much had changed since they had met for the first time.

About half a year ago he had barely said more than words in a row and with her even less. He had closed himself up, locked himself away like the stuff in his bedroom. He had hidden behind a high wall of self-defence and even if they were still working on tearing that wall down, there were already tiny holes in it through which she could take a peak at the real Spike.

She knew that it would still take a lot of time of him to deal with all the stuff that had happened but her hope was strong enough that they would work it out sooner or later.

"I'm sorry." She said suddenly, tearing them both out of their thoughts.

Spike blinked and raised an eyebrow at her.

Buffy lowered her gaze and sighed before she continued. "You didn't really give me a chance to apologize when.. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you.. what I knew about.. your accident." He shifted beside her, bringing his weight underneath him to sit upright. "I knew it was wrong, I just.. I had to know but.. I didn't know how to tell you. I know that.. you would be angry. I'm sorry."

Spike looked at her for a long moment. He could almost feel the regret radiating from her. He knew she was more than serious about it, he'd already seen it that day. But he couldn't take her apologize that day.

"I trusted you.. more than anyone else." He began after a while, looking at her with almost sad eyes. "I told you more about me that I never thought I would. I know now that it wasn't enough. I should have been more honest with you. I should have talked about this." He pointed towards the wardrobe where his coat was still a remnant of his past. "But.. you have to understand that I couldn't. I just.. I just couldn't. And it still hurts. It didn't mean to.. cut you off, I just.. it was too much. There are still.. things I can't talk about. I know that it's not what you want, but.. that's all I can give you right now."

Silence fell between them. Silence, thick and heavy, but also a silence that didn't need to be broken. They had their marks settled for now.

"So.. you take my apology?" Buffy asked then, her eyes glittering hopefully.

"If you take mine."

She snuggled against him and took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's enough." She nodded and smiled sweetly.

Spike ran his hands through her hair, wrapping one strand around his index finger index finger. He wouldn't deny that he was close to tears and it cost him much effort to fight them back. Deep down, he was surprised that she actually understood him, that she wasn't asking for more than he could give her now. But he also know that she was holding back, too, that she had problems trusting people. It wasn't the best way to start a relationship but he needed her too much as to worry about that.

Slowly, he pulled her closer, locking his gaze with her's.

Their lips met as light as butterfly wings, tasting each other, coming closer step by careful step. He sucked at her bottom lip, nibbling at it a little with his teeth.

Her tongue darted out to touch his and her arms slipped around his neck. She felt it fingers gliding into her hair and to the back of her neck. Common sense was checking out just then, saying goodbye for a short-trip to Paris, and she carefully slipped into his lap.

Spike didn't complain. With one hand, he held her head and the other slipped around her tiny waist, pulling her closer. He was drowning in her kiss, just like he had when they's kissed for the first time a few weeks back. He would never forget the way her lips felt on his.

Along with the rhythm of their kisses, Buffy started moving her hips a little, gyrating against him. It took her a minute to register the effect that had on him and she grinned against his mouth.

She let her hands travelled down his chest, continuing her movement, and her right hand slipped between their bodies.

He groaned against her lips, his eyes rolling back but he grabbed her gently by her forearms and pushed her away from him. His eyes were still closed and he licked his lips, trying to get his common sense back together.

"Don't." Spike's voice sound rough, a little strained.

Buffy looked at him, trying to understand. She looked down his body and raised an eyebrow. Did she do something wrong? Did she hurt him? "Spike?" she asked hesitantly.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. They were darker than usual and he took a long breath to steady himself. "I'm sorry, I.. I can't."

Buffy frowned even more. "But.." She slipped from his lap and plopped down on the mattress again, looking at him.

"It's not… what you think." He nodded towards his groin. Yeah, that, he did feel. And he wanted to feel it again, he was literally aching for it. "I.. I just can't." He blushed a little.

This was going all too well. First, they had to talk about this fateful night when Harmony had appeared on his doorstep and now they had to talk about that. That was definitely too much for one morning.

"Care to explain it?" Buffy tried not to sound too disappointed. Things had gone pretty well this morning, no fights, no great misunderstandings and some touchy feelings. That was all she wanted. She wanted to be with him, getting the whole relationship package. And now he was pushing her back.

He lowered his eyes. His left-over dignity was on the brink and he was afraid to loose that it along with her. It was the reason why Harmony had left him back then and he didn't want to loose Buffy, too. That would be too much. He breathed slowly, carefully sorting out his words.

"I know it sounds.. totally stupid and chauvinistic but.. I can't do it like this. When.." he stopped, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't look at her. It was simply too embarrassing. "When we.. do this I… I want to.. make love to you and I can't.. do it like this. I don't want you to do some sort of noble act or something. That would be… I'm not ready to go that far."

Buffy studied him for over a minute. Her thoughts were way too jumbled to be squeezed into sentences or even words. What could she possibly say to that?

Tears started forming in her eyes and her hands started shaking a little.

Finally, Spike raised his eyes to look at her, a nervous expression on his features. Why didn't she say something? Was she going to run away and leave him alone now?

"Can you say something?" he asked then, his voice quivering with anticipation.

She shook her head slowly. "No." Then, she shifted and snuggled back again his side, her arm reaching around his waist.

Spike looked down at the young woman. On his own accord, his arm slipped about her shoulders, drawing her closer. Her warmth was something he had missed for so long, just to be with someone felt incredible. But he was still waiting for an answer. And that was nagging on him.

Finally, Buffy spoke. "You're pretty brave saying that, you know?" She swallowed. "I get that. Take as much time as you need, okay? But.. if you want me to make you feel really good…" she chuckled again his chest, her fingers curling against his stomach. "Just let me know, okay?"

He chuckled, too, then said, kissing her on the head, "You can count on that, luv."


	32. All For You

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Hope it was worth it. ;) Thanks for all the comments.

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Spinning the Wheel 31 - All For You

Some say being in love changes everything, transforms every second into an everlasting moment. And some say, love gives you that make everything fly by in an instant. Either way, being with the person you love is the greatest time in the world.

At least, Spike felt that way in the next three months. He spent most of his time with Buffy and it was heaven. Never had he believed that company could feel so good and soothing. He had spent three years in self-imposed solitude and now, he never wanted to be without her again. Whenever she smiled at him, it was like sunlight that warmed his heart and soul. Her mere presence was a gift he couldn't believe he deserved at all.

He loved being with her, her friends and her family. Joyce became a good friend as well as Giles. Dawn was almost like his own little sister. It even went so far that he started explaining guy stuff to her, which Buffy tried to prohibit unsuccessfully.

And for Buffy? Although she wasn't ready to admit it yet, she knew that she was falling for him as well. Bit by bit, every single day. She loved the way he looked at her with all his love and kindness. She loved that he knew what she was thinking without her needing to say it.

Why had she been with a guy like Riley in the first place, when there were guys like Spike? True, he had some unnerving habits but he really actually loved her. And that was more than most guys had given her so far.

"Morning," Buffy mumbled into the pillow as Spike pushed one stray strand out of her face and behind her ear.

He loved watching her sleeping or waking up. It was as if he wanted to cherish every moment they had together.

"Morning, luv," He smiled at her, leaned down, and gave her a peck on the forehead.

"How do you feel today?" She asked, sitting up as well. She blinked at him with sleepy eyes.

"Still a little queasy, but it's better."

Last night hadn't been all too well. They had been out to dinner at a Chinese restaurant to check out what it was like. But about two hours after being back at Spike's place, he had figured out that sweet and sour was not the food for him. So he'd spent most of the time in the bathroom.

"You think you're okay? I told you, if you want me to stay here and play nurse, I could skip classes."

"Tempting, but no. I'm a big guy, remember? Plus, college is important. I don't want you to end up as the bloody awful poet that I am." The smile he gave her was a little teasing.

"Alright, mom. I go to school, eat up all my lunch and won't go around kissing boys I don't know," She beamed at him, batting her eyes innocently.

"But you can kiss me if you want, since you know me and all." He smirked that cocky little smirk she often wanted to slap off his face since it was the most annoying thing she'd ever seen.

But this one seemed a little naughtier than usual. Buffy grinned at him, then slipped into his lap and gave him a sizzling kiss. He immediately melted into her as the kiss deepened, wrapping his arms around her slender waist, pulling her closer.

Buffy started to gyrate her hips a little against hips. She knew that he liked that and ever since he told her that he could feel a little more of his thighs than he did a month ago, he liked it even more.

She grinned against his mouth as she felt him starting to rise to the occasion. It always worked. Men were so simple sometimes.

Her hands started to roam over his bare chest (he had admitted that he used to sleep naked), caressing his well defined muscles. That was the advantage of him being in a wheelchair. His torso was as hard as any rock.

Spike's hands moved down to her butt, holdings her weight against the exact right spot. He broke away from her kisses, panting a little. She leaned her forehead against his, locking gazes with him. He could say so much with just one look.

And just now, he gave her the permission to pick up the discussion where they had left off three months ago.

Buffy looked at him a little surprised. When he'd said he needed time she'd mentally settled in for a really long time. "You sure?" she asked carefully.

In answer, Spike just nodded. He didn't have the strength to actually say it. She didn't know whether to smile or not. She had wanted this for a considerably long time and now that she had the chance, she was starting to become nervous.

Slowly, she resumed kissing him and her right hand travelled down his chiselled stomach. The she let it slip below the thin blanket. She moved slowly, giving him time and opportunity to tell her to stop. But he didn't. He simply kept kissing her sweetly and first broke away when her warm little hand reached its destination.

He gasped quietly and closed his eyes at the rushing sensation that threatened to over run his system.

It had been almost three years since someone had touched him like that. Harmony had made an attempt but he had pushed her away. Not now. He was letting Buffy touch him and it felt incredible.

Her touch was soft and hesitant, as if she was afraid of breaking something.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, just to stare directly into hers. She was searching his face for all the tiny little reactions he was showing, trying to figure out what he liked best. She looked so lost and helpless that he almost felt the urge to smile. But he knew that would only scare her even more.

So he took the initiative and closed his hand about her fingers, guiding her a little, setting the right speed and angle.

Buffy grinned a proud little grin as she continued her ministrations and he closed his eyes again with a small sigh of pleasure. She could do that to him. Even though she needed some help, it was still her.

She watched him lick his lips and she registered that his hands started to shake a bit. His breath become a little quicker and had a tiny ragged edge. She felt him throbbing against her fingers and his entire body tensed up against hers. Applying a little more pressure with her hand, she leaned into him and started nibbling at his neck and ear.

His breath felt hot against her skin. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop." His voice was rough and husky.

Buffy leaned back from him again, watching his features twist in pleasure. When his panting become even a bit more ragged, he opened his eyes and looked into hers. His eyes had darkened a shade or two and were covered with pure lust. He wanted to tell her how good he felt but he couldn't. Not only was most of his strength focussed on other things in the moment but also there were no proper words he could have said. All he could do was to give into the sensation that was boiling up inside him. He knew that he wouldn't be able to last any longer.

His body started quivering and Spike had to bite his lip to keep himself from calling out her name as he came in her hand. His head fell back as a whirlwind of ecstasy surged through his system. Never before had he felt so vulnerable, not even when he had told Buffy about the accident. He was completely at her mercy, and quite literally lay in her hands. That was what he had tried to avoid, the feeling of getting served. To block out the bad feelings, he thread his fingers into her hair and pulled her into a searing kiss.

Buffy's hand remained between their bodies and continued stroking him in a slow rhythm.

"What time is it?" she mumbled against his lips after a while.

Spike broke away from her, looking on the alarm clock on the bedside table. "Almost 8.30. Why?"

In an instant, Buffy was on her feet, wiping off her hand on the bed sheet. "Shit, I'm late for my morning class. Can I use your shower?" She started searching for her clothes. Ever since the became an item, she had developed the habit of sleeping on one of his shirts and scattering her belongings all over the place.

"Sure. You want me to whip up some breakfast?" Spike asked.

"Oh, that would be awesome." She zipped towards him, pressing a hard kiss in his lips. "You're awesome. Can I keep you?" she beamed at him.

"You do. Now get cleaned up."

Buffy disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Spike alone. He leaned his head against the headboard of the bed, taking a deep breath to get his brain to work properly again. He was a little disappointed that reality had filtered back into their little private moment but he knew that he couldn't live in such a fantasy world. He had learned that he also had to focus on other people's need and lives as well. If he had learned one thing from Dru breaking up with him then it was that. He hadn't seen it coming because he had been so absorbed with his own business that she had taken him off guard. And he had paid the price.

He was already starting to get up, as the doorbell rang. He grunted, a little unnerved, pulling his wheelchair closer to the bed.

"You expecting someone?" Buffy's head poked into the doorway; she was still dressed in his shirt.

"No. Can you get it?"

"Sure."

Buffy buzzed the door open and waited at the open door for the early visitor.

"Ben?" She stared incredulously at the young doctor. "What are you doing here?"

"Morning, Buffy," He smiled a little sheepishly. "Your mom told me you were here. I'm on the way to my shift and I wanted to speak to you and… Mr Rayne." He couldn't quite block out a streak of irritation from his voice. He had obviously noticed the shirt she wore and that it was the only thing she wore.

"Uh.. yeah, sure." Buffy turned halfway, calling for Spike.

The young man appeared a moment later. He hadn't bothered to dress; he had just bunched up the stained bed sheet around hips, leaving half of his body bare.

"What's it?" Surprise flashed over Spike's face as he saw Ben standing in the door.

"Ben wanted to speak to us," Buffy explained.

"Does he?" Spike up an eyebrow, taking in the picture of the med and his girlfriend. Although he tried to push it away, he felt jealousy bubbling up inside him.

"Yeah, I'll make it short." Ben frowned a little, trying to cover it though, when Spike possessively put his hand around Buffy's hips and pulled her closer towards him.

Spike tilted his head to one side, gesturing him to continue. Not that he didn't like Ben, he had no idea if he was a nice guy or not, but he felt that he had on eye on his girl. That was enough not to let him be around for too long.

"I.. uhm.. I contacted a friend of mine. We went to med school together. He's in a hospital in London now and is on his way to becoming a neurological surgeon. He wants to write his thesis about the reproduction and rebuilding of nerves and muscles in cases of transplantation and such."

"Okay, I'm getting that he's a pretty smart guy. What does it have to do with us?" Spike interrupted impatiently.

Buffy glared at him but didn't say anything.

"As I said, I contacted him because I think he might be able to help you. Since you already started to heal, there might be a chance that his methods could work."

"But you don't know? He's just trying."

Ben hesitated for a moment before he answered. "That much is true, yeah. I'm not denying that it's more of pilot project than a promise but there is a chance. Recent tests and surgeries show that over 75 of the nerves are working properly again. A woman who had lost her hand in an accident can already write again after 6 weeks.

Spike let that sink in for a moment. "But my legs weren't cut off, they just don't work anymore."

"I don't know much about the methods he's applying. I know that he is also working with some sort of laser technology but more than that, I don't know. But it's working. You should consider that." Ben reached into his back pocket of his pants. "If you want to call him, here's his number." He held out a business card, which Spike reluctantly took.

"Thanks, I'll… I'll think about that."

"Great. Well, that's it. I'm gone. Have a nice day then." Ben nodded courtly, giving Buffy a thin smile and then headed for the stairs.

"Stupid git," Spike grunted, before he turned and made his way into the kitchen.

Buffy followed him. "What is that supposed to mean? He wants to help. And isn't it great that he wound up someone who might help you?" She propped her hands on her hips. She didn't like Spike's mood swing at all.

"Yeah, it's really awesome to bring up a guy who's looking for some lab rats. No, thanks." Spike slapped the business card on the table, anger filling his voice.

"Didn't you listen? He said that it was working." Now it was Buffy who became angry.

"Wrong. It might work. He's not sure. And don't you get shirty on me. It's my bloody decision."

"I am not shirty, what ever that means anyway. But okay, if you're not going to call him, I will." She lunged for the card. Spike reached for it, too, but she was faster.

"No, you won't," He spat, as his eyes glittered with fury.

"Yes, I will." Buffy let out a breath. "Spike, I just want to help you."

"By falling into my back on this? Thanks, but I don't need that sort of help. If you're so hot for a guy who can walk, why don't you go to your Ben?"

All Buffy could to was stare at him. Anger was boiling up inside her. What was that supposed to mean? Their morning had started out so great and now they were fighting. And did he really think she had it for Ben?

"Oh please, come on. I saw the looks he gave you."

"And what makes you think I returned them? You think I'd given you that hand job if I didn't have any feelings for you?"

Spike snorted. "Oh thank you so much. That really means something. But just so you know, I'm perfectly capable of wanking off on my own. Guess how I got off before you came along."

She stared at him. She didn't have anything to say to that, she didn't have the words. Tears started to flood Buffy's eyes. How could he be so mean to her?

"You're such an idiot," was all she could say before she quickly dressed and left the apartment without another word.


	33. Choices

A/N: Thanks everyone who commented so far. I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. My RL has been pretty exhausting lately. I hope you like this chapter. Comments are very welcome :D

_Spinning the Wheel 33 – Choices_

Wesley Wyndham-Price was a young man in his late twenties but he had nothing of the casualty Ben had. The way he held himself as he stood in the Summers' living room reminded Buffy of Giles on the first day she'd met him. A little stuffy and with a serious lack of humour, and he had the same habit of cleaning his glasses every now and then.

The young woman came back into the room with a pot of tea and put it on the coffee table.

"Please, Mr Wyndham-Price, sit down. Make yourself at home." She gestured towards the armchair, and then poured tea for everyone.

"Thank you, Miss Summers."

"Call me Buffy, please. How do you take your tea?"

"Two sugars, no cream, please."

When Buffy was done, a strong hand closed around her waist and Spike pulled her into his lap. She cast him an irritated glance but he simply looked at her with an innocent expression. Ever since that scene with Ben and after the event in the Bronze the other week, he had developed a slight possession over her. It wasn't bothering her much, she just though it was childish.

"So, do tell. What's your deal?" Spike asked, pulling his eyebrows up in a challenging way.

"I.. uhm.. I don't know how much Ben told you."

"Not much, actually. He just gave us the keywords," Buffy said, sipping from her tea.

"Well, I hope I can do this without getting too technical. We have developed a laser that is able to mend and restore fibers within the human body, such as nerves and muscles. It reactivates a certain part of the cell and gets it to work again," Wesley went on about his method in great detail until he had to take a sip from his tea.

"It all sounds great, doc. Where's the downside?" Spike eyed him suspiciously.

Buffy had felt him tensing underneath her during Wesley's speech. He still wasn't comfortable with all this.

"There is no downside, Mr Rayne. Well, not really…"

"What?" Spike interrupted, tensing even more. His hand clenched down impatiently on Buffy's shirt.

"Look, the problem is just… No, let's start differently. All of our patients were able to move their limbs again; the muscles and nerves were perfectly rebuilt. But the wounds.. they were all fresh, if I may put it that way. Most of them were victims of accidents at work," Wesley sighed. "In your case though… from the information your file contained, there is a lot of damage. I assume that because of former surgeries, there are even.. some parts missing. If we would apply my method, it would be necessary to.. breed some artificial nerves and muscles."

The couple looked at the man in confusion. "You want to clone me?" Spike asked then.

"On a small scale, yes. What I'm talking about is that we will have to make a connection between the ends of the destroyed fibers. Therefore we would have to extract some of the existing cells and breed new ones. Those, we can insert again and apply the laser method. But the breeding process is the complicated part. We are still unsure if it is going to work."

Silence fell into the room, thick and heavy. Spike stared ahead with dull eyes, his mind reeling around the pros and cons of what Wesley had told them.

It was a chance, probably the only chance he would ever get. He just had to reach out and grasp it. It was a dream that was about to come true. But, for some reasons, he was still scared. He was scared that it would still be a dream after all, that he would be paralyzed forever. Ever since Ben had shown up on his doorstep (if he was honest with himself, Spike knew that it had started when Buffy had told him, that his nerves were rebuilding) the fear had settled in very comfortably. And he had told Buffy about it – she had forced him to – which made him even more vulnerable than he was willing to admit.

"I understand that this a lot of information to procoss, so.. if you need some time ot think about it…," Wesley said after a long time.

Buffy looked at Spike who still seemed a little out of focus and he wasn't paying attention to what the other man had said, she she answered instead: "Thank you, that would be great."

"No problem. I'll leave you my card. It has my new cell phone number and I'll write the number to my room on the back so you can call me at the hotel. I'll be here for the rest of the week. Oh.. and here's a brochure. It has the same information I gave you. Just in case you want to re-read it." He gave Buffy another business card and a glossy brochure.

"Thank you, Mr Wyndham-Price. Thank you for your visit. I'll show you out."

Just as Buffy rose, Spike snapped out of his reverie. "No, let me do that. I.. want to catch a breath of fresh air… alone." He said pointedly, moving over to the door.

The young woman looked a bit irritated for a second, but then shrugged. "Okay, I'll get that stuff back in the kitchen then."

"Thanks," Spike smiled a thin, repressed smile and held out the door for Wesley, who shook Buffy's hand with a tiny bow.

Spike pulled the front door close behind him, and then paused. "This method is really working, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it it. Though I can never promise anything, especially not in such a severe case like your's. If it is does work, I think we will be able to make you walk again. You won't be able to run the New York marathin though, but you will walk."

Spike looked at the man for a long moment before he answered. "Everything is better than this." He ran his hands over the armrests.

"That's right. And.. if I may speak freely, you have a beautiful girlfriend. If you had just one reason to consider the surgery, it would be her."

Spike smiled at that, lowering his head a little. "You're right. If it wasn't for her, I would be dead by now." That last sentence came a little weak and he felt emotions rising in his throat.

Wesley just nodded, then held out a hand. "Give me call when you've made up your mind or if you have any questions."

"I will. Thank you." Spike looked at him, gratitude filling his expression.

"My pleasure. Goodbye, Mr Rayne."

Spike's shoulders sagged after Wesley was gone. He took a breath and exhaled it into the rather chilly March afternoon.

All this was way too much for him, making such a decision. He had dreamed of this, had written dozens of poems about it and now that this man had laid out the choices in front of him, he was pulling back from it.

But what could he lose if it wasn't working?

A year ago, he'd have said 'nothing' and delete jumped right into it. But now… he had a lot to lose. Now, there was Buffy. He couldn't lose her, not now that he'd found her. He hadn't believed he would find anyone who would touch him like that again. Now she was in his heart, she was part of his soul. If he would lose her… no, he couldn't think about that.

Though she had told him that she wouldn't leave him, he couldn't be sure. Well, the only way to become sure was to try it. Wesley had been right. If he had just one reason, it would be Buffy. He would do everything for her, she was the only reason that still kept him going after all.

"Hey," Buffy poked her head out of the front door. "You done breathing all by yourself?"

Spike looked at her, then smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Spike?" she asked, stepping out onto the porch. "Are you okay?" She looked down on him, concern marring her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just.. come here." He reached for her hand pulled her into his lap again. Stroking her hair behind her ear, he looked into her eyes. God, he loved this woman with all his heart. She was beautiful, smart, she was perfect. "Buffy, if.. if I do this, I would have delete to go to England. We would be seperated for months."

For a moment, she just looked at him. "So you're planning on going?" Confusion and surprise were mixed on her voice, and she tilted her head to one side.

"I don't know I.. I just don't know." He sighed and let his hands drop into his lap. "I want to walk again. It's a dream, you know. It's just.. god, this is so complicated."

"No, it's not." She took his hands in hers. "Look, you've got two options. Either you go, or you don't." She gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

Buffy knew that it probably wasn't that easy for him. She couldn't read his thoughts, she could only judge from her own feelings. It was a twisted situation for both of them.

"I don't want to leave you, Buffy. I don't want to do this alone." He hesitated. "I need you." His eyes shone with a shimmer of tears.

Buffy ran a hand over his cheek, looking him in the face. "You can do it. I know you can," she said "You know that I'd come with you but I can't, I have college and I can't skip classes for so long."

"I know." He nodded sadly, looking the other way.

She turned his face back to hers, and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. He sucked in a breath against her mouth, but gave into the kiss after a second.

"I'll miss you," Spike said as he puled back for air, leaning his head against her shoulder, breathing in her sweet her scent.

"I'll miss you, too," she threaded her fingers into his, running her thumb over the back of his hand. Yeah, she would miss him, would miss their evenings together, the talks, and just being with him. But deep down, she also wanted him to walk again, and not only for his sake but also for hers. She liked him the way he was now (more than just sympathy, to be honest) but some egoistic part of her wanted him to become more of a "normal" boyfriend. She wanted to go shopping with him, or dancing in the Bronze. What that so bad?


End file.
